Do What Thou Wilt
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Sherlock and Molly are drawn in to a dark case which puts them both at risk. Rated M for mature themes and eventual sherlolly smut.
1. Chapter 1

**So, it finally looks like I'm ready to start posting this fic...it's been a long time coming. First things first some warnings. It an occult fic, it has dark themes, talk of rape, death, sacrifice all sorts so I'm making it an M rating from the start. I'll give individual triggers on chapters as we go through but I thought I'd warn now in case anyone doesn't want to start and drop out. If you want more specific information feel free to PM either through here or on tumblr and I'll happily answer any questions.**

 **Thanks go to Lilsherlockian1975 for hand holding as I put this together and I'll apologise now for any errors, they are all mine though I own nothing else. Anyway, enough from me on with the story.**

 **Chapter 1**

It seemed initially like such an ordinary run of the mill case, not even a case, just the story of yet another teenage runaway.

She was 17 with a known history of problems, truanting at school, recreational drugs, anger management issues. The police had taken one look, done a few desultory investigations and then abandoned it.

So her mother had turned to the only person she believed could help her, Sherlock Holmes.

It was only sheer boredom on his half that had granted her an interview. He too had looked at the email and the attached reports from the police and come to the conclusion that the girl had purposefully run away, no doubt with some boyfriend, and would return when she was either dumped or when she ran out of money.

He asked Molly to sit in on the interview firstly because John was unavailable, he was 'too busy with the baby' as Sherlock had air quoted to an amused Molly, and secondly because he suspected, no he knew the mother would be emotional and Molly would be good with that kind of thing.

As expected she had arrived five minutes early, she had cried and pleaded whilst Sherlock had tried to get some straight facts out of her. Molly had indeed proved invaluable, making the woman some tea, fetching her some tissues and generally providing an air of sympathetic concern that Sherlock had felt completely bemused by.

Within a few short minutes he had determined to dismiss the case. Expanding his scientific paper on the burn rate of differing cigarette papers would ease his boredom more than this would.

The woman had obviously picked up on this and had leant forward grasping his knee with her bony, manicured fingers, 'please Mister Holmes I'll give you whatever you need, whatever you want, money...anything.' Her eyes had flicked nervously to Molly as she said this but the whole room knew exactly what she was offering.

Sherlock looked at her bleach-blond, dyed hair and her overly made up face, mascara now running in ugly streaks from her conventionally beautiful eyes and he tried to keep the grimace off his face as he unsubtly moved his leg away from her grasp.

'I would say I am sorry Mrs Bennett but that would be a lie, your daughter has no doubt been brought up to be...'

Molly butted in unexpectedly, 'what Sherlock,' she blushed and glanced at him, 'Mister Holmes is trying to say is that she'll probably come home in her own time. Keep in touch with her friends, I'm sure she'll contact one of them sooner or later. Would you like me to call you a cab or...'

Mrs Bennett shook her head, 'you're wrong, you're both wrong. I know my daughter and this isn't something she would do.' She sat still for a moment obviously thinking through her options. She nodded quickly to herself and reached into her handbag. She pulled out a bright pink notepad covered in purple flowers. 'This is Lily's journal, or diary I suppose. Please...please just have a look. See what kind of girl she was...is. I'm staying in London overnight at the Dorchester. You can either contact me there or, if I hear nothing, I'll call round tomorrow to collect the book and I won't bother you again.'

She held the book out to Sherlock who took it from her as though it were infected. She stood and looked at him as though awaiting some kind of response. After a moment or two Molly got to her feet and thanked her for coming round, offering to show her out.

A moment or two later Molly came back into the flat and sat down in John's old seat which Mrs Bennett had just vacated, 'well she was a bit forward wasn't she? Did you pick up on what she was implying? I know her daughters gone missing but that's just wrong.'

Sherlock closed his eyes ignoring her chatter and sat back thinking, not bothering to respond.

'Aren't you going to have a look at the diary then?' Molly gestured towards the book which Sherlock had just flung onto the top of a pile of papers on the floor.

When she got no response from him she bent down and picked it up. Up until 'that offer' she'd been feeling sorry for the woman. She was obviously deeply upset and worried about her daughter and desperate to find someone to help. But Molly had bridled at her offering herself to Sherlock like that, especially when she was in the room. Was it so inconceivable that she could be Sherlock's girlfriend, his partner?

Molly grimaced a little to herself, maybe it was. After all she wasn't his girlfriend, she wasn't anything to him, not really, only in her dreams. Maybe this woman had just took one look at the two of them and had known automatically that Molly was not in his league.

She hoped Sherlock hadn't been tempted. He'd not reacted to her offer, but then Molly had been in the room. What if she hadn't been? She was obviously well off and even though she was a bit too made up for Molly's tastes she had been very attractive. The sort who would be used to men throwing themselves at her. Similar to that woman a few years back that Sherlock had identified from 'not her face'; Irene Adler. The name was ingrained into Molly's memory even after all this time.

She'd never quite got to the bottom of what had gone on there, between Irene and Sherlock, but they must have been close. He'd seen her naked, he had her moaning on his phone and when Molly had googled her name...well, let's just say she'd felt shocked and a little sick. Not sick because of her profession; some kind of dominatrix, Molly was open minded enough about sex, but just at the thought of how little she was able to compete. If that was the type of woman Sherlock went for no wonder he'd never looked twice at her.

When she came out of her reverie and looked up Sherlock was looking right at her; his eyes narrowed in thought, no doubt trying to deduce what she was thinking. She blushed hoping he hadn't figured it out and she held up the diary, smiling as brightly as she could manage, 'well, shall we have a look?'

She opened it to the first entry which was dated about six months ago. Reading aloud to Sherlock she began,

 _Went back to school after Christmas. Soooo boring. All the teachers are banging on about is the exams. I don't give a fuck about them. If it wasn't for my mates and Liam I'd have jacked this in months ago._

 _'_ Hmm not exactly off to an auspicious start are we.' Molly skimmed a few more pages and then took up the narrative again.

 _I can't believe Liam asked that bitch Cassie out. She's so false her boobs will probably come off in his hand if he tries to feel her up. Would serve him right? Don't know what I ever saw in him. Karl asked me out and I said I'd think about it._

 _I can't stop thinking about him. He told me to wait, not to lose my virginity to the wrong person. I told him it was none of his business but he's so much more mature than the guys at school._

Molly flicked on again.

 _Easter. He says it's an important time of year, says he's going to show me amazing things if I just wait. I told him all I was waiting for was the next Rhianna album, he laughed but said he'd buy it for me and anything else I wanted._

 _Two days later_

 _I kissed Karl for the first time and have to admit he's a really hot kisser. I even let him feel me up a bit but didn't go further than that. He says he wants to sleep with me. Karin reckons I should. Her and Vicky have both done it. I'm the only one who hasn't. Summer seems a long time off and I'm not sure I can be bothered to wait but he says it will be worth it_

 _I pulled him up on the fact that he's always saying 'do what thou wilt' like some fucking stiff but then he tells me to wait. He said he'll make it up to me. He bought me a fuck awesome bag the other day, the girls were all well jealous so maybe I will._

Molly flicked through a few more pages but it was all much of a muchness. She was about to throw the book down and let Sherlock drop the case when he leant forward and pulled it out of her hands.

She jumped a little in surprise but then noticed the gleam in his eyes as he flicked through the pages, seeing his lips mouthing some of the words as he scanned the young girl's words. It looked as though something had piqued Sherlock's interest.

'What's today's date?' He snapped at her, 'come on...hurry up.'

'Oh err...20th April...why?'

Sherlock ignored her as he got up before sitting down in front of his laptop tapping away.

He had obviously found the page he was looking for as he used his forefinger to trace down the screen, leaning forward concentrating.

'We're coming up to Beltaine after that it would be Litha and the Summer Solstice. What's the last entry?'

Molly had no idea what Sherlock was talking about at all, 'I'm sorry what?' She sat forward looking at him baffled.

'The diary Molly, the diary. Come on...' He snapped his fingers repeatedly whilst she scrabbled around picking up the diary from the floor and finding the last entry.

 _Have decided that tonight is the night! I can't wait, everything is prepared I'm just waiting for Karl to text and then I'll let him know...wish me luck._

'So, this Karl is that who she's run away with?'

Sherlock glanced round with a frown, 'what? No, don't be ridiculous Molly. This isn't about some teenage runaway. No this is a case Molly, a proper case.'

'Well I'm getting that from your reaction but I have no idea what has got you so excited or what all those dates were that you read out. What the hell is Beltaine and Litha and whatever that other one was?'

'They're important dates from the occult calendar Molly. Human sacrifice, that's what we're up against and it's possible we may not have much time.'

He checked his watch.

'We can get a train to Almsbury every half hour. If we aim for the 15.20 that should give you time to talk to Mike and pack. I'll book us tickets and meet you at Marylebone at just after three.'

With that he stood and started to make his way to his bedroom.

'Wait, hang on. I can't just up and leave with you.'

He turned as he reached the bedroom door and flashed her a wicked smile, 'why not Molly? You've always wanted to be whisked away by me and now's your chance. I suggest you take it.'

He winked and then pulled the door too behind him leaving a baffled and bemused Molly in his wake.

 **So I think we know she's going to take him up on the offer. Let me know what you think of the start and I'll be back in a couple of days with chapter 2. At minimum it will be two chapters a week but I may occasionally throw in a third...we'll see.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Good reception from you all so far. Thank you for the reviews and follows and favourites. Let's crack on with the next instalment. I should perhaps make this clear that whilst it's set after his non-existent exile it was mostly written before the Christmas Special so there won't be any references to his almost overdose.**

 **Chapter 2**

Molly felt like maybe she was going a little mad as she made her way back to her flat, ringing Mike from the cab as she went. He was shocked at the short notice but he was always nagging at Molly to use her leave so after they'd discussed a few outstanding pieces of work he'd agreed to her taking a week off possibly two. Molly promised to ring him again in a few days' time to confirm it one way or the other.

As she walked into her flat and Toby wound himself, kamikaze style, around her ankles threatening to trip her up she suddenly started to panic a little. She picked him up and ruffled the fur on the back of his neck hearing him start to purr loudly, 'oh Tobes, what the hell am I doing? This is ridiculous. I can't go away with Sherlock; I'm bound to end up either making a fool of myself or more in love with him than I already am.'

She remembered back to that cheeky wink and smile he had given her. Damn him he had known exactly what he was doing, he knew she wouldn't put up as much of an argument if he gave her hope. He was manipulating her all over again and more fool her but it was working.

She pulled out her suitcase and ransacked her wardrobe trying to decide what to take. She had no idea what he was planning or how long they were even going for. In the end she decided to take things that would mix and match as much as she could. At least she was packing for warmer weather which was easier than for cold.

The last, but not least thing, on her list was hoping beyond hope that her elderly neighbour was in and would be happy to look after Toby. She hadn't even had time to go and buy enough food but Mrs Tyler was more than happy to keep an eye on him and didn't mind buying whatever was required, telling Molly not to worry even as Molly pressed some money into her hand to cover any costs.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later and she found herself stood near the ticket offices on Marylebone station nervously looking out for her travel companion whilst glancing at her watch.

He was easy to spot when he did arrive; his height, his curls and his confidence as he strode towards her all helping him to stand out. Molly couldn't help the way her stomach flipped over at the sight of him. His Belstaff coat just served to emphasise his presence as it billowed out behind him as he walked.

'Good you're here. I'll just get the tickets. We're leaving from platform 4.'

Molly looked around, 'where are your bags? Have you not brought anything?' She suddenly got a bit embarrassed about her own. Had she misunderstood what he'd meant?

He waved his hand towards the barriers to the platforms as he waited for their tickets to print out, 'I commandeered one of the staff to take my bags on ahead.'

Of course he had. Only Sherlock, and possibly his brother, would have the force of personality to not only find one of the almost non-existent attendants but have them transport their luggage about.

He was at least gentlemanly enough to relieve Molly of her suitcase as he guided her towards the train leading her up to the first class carriage at the front. A chap in a network rail uniform was stood waiting at the door, 'your bags are on board sir.'

Sherlock palmed some money across to him and thanked him as they clambered on board. The porter had obviously alerted the steward to the possibility of a tip because almost as soon as they had sat down they were being offered drinks and other refreshments.

Sherlock shook his head but Molly ordered herself a sandwich and a cup of tea. As the young chap moved away to go and get it Sherlock smirked, 'really Molly, food on a train, bound to be over-priced and underwhelming.'

'You're probably right but I'm starving. My lunchtime companion didn't offer me any food at his flat.' She raised an eyebrow at him smiling slightly.

'Touché, I promise I will next time...well, if I have anything edible to offer.'

As the train pulled out of the station Molly took a bite of her frankly disappointing lunch before turning to Sherlock who was seemingly engrossed in the view.

'So, what exactly is going on?'

He frowned as he looked back at her, 'I thought that was obvious!'

Molly suddenly felt like John, 'maybe to you but not to me. I haven't got a clue what's going on other than the fact that we seem to be winging our way to the village that Lily Bennett is from.'

Sherlock glanced at his watch, 'Shepherd, she's Lily Shepherd. Her mother remarried. We should be there in just under an hour. We can hopefully stay at the pub in the centre of the village.'

'Yes, that's great. But what is actually happening Sherlock and what were those events or dates you were reading out earlier?'

He settled back in his chair and looked over at Molly as he spoke. She tried to concentrate on what he was saying rather than the startling blue of his eyes, they were so changeable sometimes blue, sometimes green, she could never quite pin it down.

'It was all in the diary you see, on initial reading it all just seemed to be her friends, school and boys. Boring. But as you were reading out those passages it became apparent that she was referring to someone else. Someone other than her friends or her boyfriend. Someone who was encouraging her to stay a virgin, someone who was quoting Aleister Crowley to her.'

That name was familiar to Molly, 'what, you mean the guy from Supernatural, the King of Hell? I love that show, most people seem to prefer Dean but I've always had a thing for Sam. He's all slim and muscular, perfect...mmmmm.'

'Molly, what on earth are you talking about?'

Molly jumped; suddenly realising she was talking to Sherlock and not one of her similarly obsessed female friends. She knew she was blushing as she cleared her throat, 'well, you mentioned Alistair Crowley and he's in the show. He's a demon. Is that not who you were referring too?' She asked the question even though it was becoming painfully obvious to her he was not. She had a sudden burst of recollection. 'Oh, do you mean the Satanist guy from the 1900's?'

'Yes, Molly, that's "the guy" I meant,' he air quoted, speaking slowly as though to emphasise how slow on the uptake she had been. 'Though he doesn't actual appear to be a Satanist even though he's become the poster boy for the occult. He developed his own religion called Thelema and one of its principles was 'do what thou wilt'.

'Ahh, the words in Lily's journal.' Molly was starting to see where Sherlock's mind had gone.

'I'm concerned that whoever she was referring to as having said those words has been influencing Lily, endeavouring to keep her a virgin for a special date in the diary. The last entry wasn't about her planning to run away as everyone else seems to have assumed; it was about her planning to lose her virginity and I think she was abducted because of that.'

'But I don't understand why is it important that she stay a virgin?'

'I think somehow, our Lily has become mixed up in with some kind of cult or cabal, there are still people, groups out there who believe in human or virgin sacrifice on certain dates in the occult calendar. And the one coming up is one of the biggest in their year, at the end of this month is the Betaine Festival otherwise known as Walpurgis Night, 30th April.

Molly sat shell-shocked for a moment, 'so...oh God...you think she's being held somewhere so someone can rape her on that night?'

Sherlock nodded and looked back out of the window, 'if not worse, chances are it wouldn't just be one person but many plus historically there have been instances of actual human sacrifice. I've already asked Greg to send me a list of any similar cases and or murders which might tie in.'

It was a sign of how seriously Sherlock was taking this case that he'd used Lestrade's actual first name. Molly knew he got it wrong on a regular basis just to wind the Detective Inspector up.

They were silent for the rest of the journey Molly feeling a sense of foreboding over the coming days, hoping beyond hope that either Sherlock was wrong or he would be able to find the girl before anything more happened to her.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was just after four when they pulled into the small station at Almsbury. The weather had started to turn somewhat; looking overcast and ominous and Molly wondered if it was some kind of sign before internally berating herself for being so susceptible. She was a woman of science, a doctor, she should know better. But she couldn't help it she had always had a fascination with ghosts and the supernatural and on first inspection if there was going to be anywhere in England with superstitions it was going to be here in this small and isolated location. As they took an old, battered cab into the centre of the village Molly saw not only numerous old, thatched cottages but even various standing stones dotted around the outskirts.

They pulled up in front of the pub, which sat right on the edge of the silent village green and Molly almost laughed at the cliché, the pub was called _The Witchfinder General_. She turned to Sherlock, 'witches...really and standing stones, can this place be any more spooky?'

He smirked as he picked up their luggage, 'not afraid of ghosts are you? Come on, let's see if they've got rooms.'

The pub itself was advertised as having been built in the sixteenth century and it matched its credentials; Sherlock had to duck to get in through the door although Molly was just about OK. Once inside the ceiling and the ancient beams were quite low but just high enough that Sherlock could move around safely. As they walked towards the bar Molly was surprised to see an old well actually built into the middle of the pub. She'd never seen one inside a building like this before.

She glanced over the edge, there was a metal grating about three feet down but beyond that she couldn't see the bottom. A small plaque pinned on the side told her that it was built long before the pub and was over sixty feet deep. There was also a paragraph about it being used in the witch trials in the 1700's with the rumour that the bodies of five women were still lost in the bottom.

Molly shivered in disgust and hurried to catch up to Sherlock who was ordering a drink for them both at the bar and asking if they had a couple of rooms free.

The woman behind the bar nodded happily, 'oh yes, we only have three room in total but they're all available. Is it one or two you need?' She said cheerfully as she looked appraisingly at the two of them.

Molly blushed and smiled shyly at the thought of someone pairing her up with Sherlock but was brought back down with a bump by Sherlock's immediate and resounding, 'two, definitely two!'

'OK, well if you'd just like to fill out this slip I'll get you your keys. I can show you up when you've had your drink. Adrian can take your bags up now though. How does that sound?'

'Perfect, thanks,' answered Molly bending her head to fill out the form that Sherlock had pushed her way.

'Do you know how many nights you'll be here?'

Molly looked to Sherlock who answered, 'three initially but maybe longer. I'll pay in advance.' He then handed over what looked suspiciously to Molly like an American Express black card. She knew Sherlock had money but you had to be seriously loaded to get one of those cards.

A guy about their age came out from the kitchens when called and introduced himself as the afore mentioned Adrian. Molly took a real shine to him, he was very friendly and obviously gay. He chatted away happily asking where they'd travelled from and what brought them to Almsbury.

Molly was surprised by how verbose and open Sherlock was, he mentioned they were there for work but didn't say what and asked a few questions about the village and how long Adrian had lived there.

'God, all my life for my sins. I run the local drama school and work here part time. Meredith, the landlady runs the place and lets me hire a room as well. Couldn't be living at my parents in my thirties could I? Well, you can't if you want a sex life. Not that there's much going on here. I sometimes feel like the only gay in the village. You'll have to tell me all about yourselves, I get bored talking to the same old people, we need some fresh blood. Anyhoo, I'll take up your bags and leave them in your rooms.' He turned to Molly and winked, 'I'll give you the best one hey seeing as he's grumpy enough not to share with you...at least not yet, he will though, he will, just you mark my words. I'm renowned for my premonitions and I'm getting a strong one about the two of you.' He wagged his index finger back and forth between the two of them before he smiled again and then made his way to the small staircase at the back of the bar with their bags.

Molly was a little stunned by his meandering one-sided conversation but when she turned to Sherlock he just rolled his eyes. 'Before you even ask Molly I don't believe in clairvoyants, as I'm sure you don't. I got you a white wine and soda I trust that's satisfactory.'

Molly took the drink gratefully, already feeling like she needed it.

 **Still setting the scene. Hope you like it, let me know.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks again for all the reviews. Glad you're enjoying this.**

 **Chapter 3**

'So what's the plan?' Asked Molly once she'd had a sip of her wine.

Sherlock sat back in his seat in the dimly lit pub, nursing his beer, 'Lily and her mother have lived in this village for the past four years ever since Lily's father died. Her mother remarried a local, by the name of Hugh Bennett, he's made a lot of money in the City in banking but took leave under suspicious circumstances about a month ago, financial irregularities possibly.'

'If Lily has got herself mixed up in some sort of cult it has to be based here or in one of the neighbouring villages. First step is to get chatting to the locals and see what stories we can dig up, see who might be involved but we need to be careful, any one of these people could be part of the cult and if they know we're on to them they may get rid of Lily sooner rather than waiting.'

As he spoke his eyes were taking in all the people in the pub, no doubt deducing the life out of them, Molly knew what that felt like. She also couldn't help but notice just how many of them were also glancing at her and Sherlock and murmuring about them to each other. Nothing like newcomers in a village to set tongues wagging.

'And how do you know so much about the occult, I thought you'd delete that sort of information as irrelevant just like the solar system.' She giggled a little as she mentioned the latter and Sherlock looked back at her with his eyes narrowed.

'Hmm, John told you about that did he? I keep telling him that in order to keep my brain working at maximum capacity I have to delete useless and irrelevant information.'

Molly lifted up her glass, 'so how come you've retained what my favourite drink is then?'

Sherlock was struck dumb momentarily as he wondered to himself why he had kept that, but she'd moved on.

'No, but seriously the occult?'

'Well, you'd be surprised how many criminals use spiritualism or cults for their own gain. But more importantly when I was disbanding Moriary's network I actually came across one group who saw James Moriarty as the reincarnation of Aleister Crowley. They were determined to call up his spirit and force a new reincarnation. Completely mad but two girls were killed in sacrifices to try and accomplish it.'

Molly was about to reply when Sherlock leant forward whispering in her ear, 'the barman has just come back down. He seems chatty, get him talking, tell him you're interested in the well and other local superstitions.'

He stood up, picking up his coat which he'd taken off earlier, and said more loudly, 'I'm off to my room then Molly, I'll meet you later for dinner.'

'OK.' She smiled widely and watched as he made his way to the stairs watching him duck in order to fit through the doorway, all the while trying not to be too obvious about the way she was staring at his backside in those oh so tight trousers.

After he'd gone she took her drink over to the bar and sat on one of the bar stool, 'hey, do you mind if I sit here for a bit? I haven't quite finished my drink yet and I hate to drink alone.'

'God, yeah course. Sit yourself down girl. So what's brings you to our dismal little village?'

'My...um...colleague has been asked to look into the disappearance of Lily Shepherd. Do you know her?'

'Yeah I do, believe me everybody knows everybody in this place. No keeping any secrets here. She's a cute kid, pretty in a conventional way, like her mum, now she's a bit of a goer that one, went through the men in the village like a dose of salts, married and single, when she first arrived. She fell on her feet with Hugh though, he's loaded.'

He carried on, 'I was sorry to hear Lily had run away. She'd been to my drama group a couple of times soon after they moved here but it wasn't really her thing and she didn't stay. Grapevine has it that she was unhappy at home and her boyfriend's involved in her disappearance but he's walking round looking depressed as and denying all knowledge. So who knows!'

He poured Molly another drink winking and whispering, 'on the house.'

He went on, 'so what's the deal between you and the hottie you've brought with you? Coz I so would! Does he swing just your way or do I have a chance with him as well?'

Molly nearly spat out her drink at his forwardness but he just laughed, 'come on, I know you would. I saw the way your eyes followed his ass out of the bar. What gives?'

Molly thought for a second before answering, 'honestly from what I hear most of the time he doesn't swing anyway at all. I've heard rumours about him being both straight and gay so your guess is as good as mine. All I know is he isn't interested in me, believe me I've tried, but no...we're just friends.'

'Well, OK if you say so. Well as we're friends now I won't go there. And anyway like I said earlier I see a connection between you both. He may not acknowledge it yet but it's there and it will come out you mark my words. God I sound like an old witchey hag from a movie or something.'

Molly took a chance, 'so you never had a premonition about Lily then?'

'Funny you should ask that, I do remember getting a black feeling from her when we first met, like a cloud hanging over her future. But other than that no, some feelings are stronger than others.

'A place like this must be full of superstitions though. I mean what's the deal with that well right in the middle of the pub?'

'I know right, there are so many odd things about this village that I could tell you about...'

At that moment the landlady came out of the back office and asked Adrian to take over in the kitchens, he nodded and turned back to Molly, 'duty calls. Listen, I'm free tomorrow, if you're around I can give you the full tour of the village, tell you everything. What do you say?'

Molly smiled, 'well, I'll have to check whether Sherlock needs me but if not, yes that sounds great.'

'Cool, and my god, does he always wear shirts that tight? I swear I got a hard on just looking at him.' With that and grinning widely, Adrian made his way out of the bar and into the kitchen.

Molly laughed again, glad to have found a sympathetic ear.

After she'd finished her drink she made her way up to her room which was fairly small but beautifully decorated, in keeping with the old fashioned nature of the pub. The only discordant note was a bizarre picture on the wall opposite her bed. It caught Molly's eye as she picked up her suitcase to unpack and she had to go over to take a closer look.

It was a black and white print and seemed to be a horde of demons ransacking a kitchen. There were dismembered heads on plates and strange contorted beings part human, part animal. It made Molly shudder and she wondered whether she should take it down or turn it to face the wall or something. It was so strange it made her feel almost violated and dirty for looking at it.

Just at that moment she heard laughter from downstairs in the bar and she gave a shake of her head, she was just being daft it was only a picture. Instead she concentrated on unpacking a few bits and pieces and freshening up in the tiny en suite shower room before knocking on the door to the bedroom next to hers.

'Come in Molly, door's open.'

Molly went in to find Sherlock's room was about half the size of her own. Adrian hadn't been kidding when he said he'd give her the better room. There was little more than a double bed, wardrobe, an armchair in the corner under a sloping eave and a bedside cabinet.

Sherlock was lying on the mahogany wood framed bed, thinking. He'd thrown his coat and jacket onto the chair so in lieu of anywhere else to sit Molly kicked off her shoes and sat at the bottom of the bed, leaning against the footboard with her hands wrapped around her knees.

'How did you get on?' He asked without even opening his eyes.

Molly couldn't help letting her eyes wander over his body. Given the humid almost oppressive warmth of the room he had removed his shoes and his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. His arms looked all veins and muscles and Molly found herself fantasising about what those long artistic fingers could do to her.

'Molly?' Her reverie was broken as she realised he was looking at her slightly puzzled.

'Oh..um..sorry. Well, I got chatting to the barman. He was nice.'

'Keep to the relevant facts Molly.'

'He knows the family...' And Molly explained everything she had learnt about Lily and her mum. 'He's offered to take me out tomorrow and show me the village, tell me all about it.'

'Excellent,' Sherlock sat up so fast that it made Molly jump a little, he suddenly seemed to be that much closer to her. 'See what gossip you can pick up, it seems as though he'd be a good source and he obviously likes you. I'll go to the family home and check out the girl's bedroom, talk to the mother and step-father and see what else I can glean.'

Molly couldn't resist her next sentence, 'I think he likes you more.'

'What? Who?'

'Adrian, the barman. I think he fancies you.'

Sherlock tilted his head slightly looking at her thoughtfully, 'not my area Molly, I would have thought you of all people would know that.'

Molly couldn't quite believe what came over her but she couldn't help asking, 'You mean you're not gay?'

He narrowed his eyes and smiled a strange smile before eventually answering. 'No, Molly. I'm not gay.'

He stood and picked up his jacket, changing the subject, 'dinner? I'm not hungry myself but John berates me if I don't keep him regularly fed so I'm assuming you would feel the same.'

'Yes, thanks.' Molly took his proffered hand as he helped her off his bed.

As they walked down the narrow stairs a thought suddenly struck her, 'hang on, what did you mean by me of all people?'

'Molly, I've always told you that you matter the most, you're as bad as John, you see but you don't observe. Right, do you want to find a table, I'll get the drinks.'

Molly still wasn't quite sure what he meant but figured it was easier to let it go than pursue it. She'd already had two glasses of wine and it was going to her head a little. She needed some food in her before she embarked on a third. It felt fun though, almost like being on holiday, which when she thought about it, she agreed it was for her. All this, solving crimes with Sherlock, it was a vacation from her normal life tucked away from the world in her morgue.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The food in the pub was delicious. Molly had polished off a homemade Cottage Pie with fresh vegetables as well as indulging in a summer fruit pudding afterwards. It was a little disconcerting to sit there eating whilst Sherlock just drank and surveyed the pub but the wine helped her to ignore him.

By the end of the third glass she had lost some of her inhibitions around him and was actively teasing him about his confirmed bachelor status. 'Don't you ever just need somebody though, don't you ever feel lonely? I know I do. Living alone with a cat is just sad. I suppose at least you have Mrs Hudson for company.'

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, 'I have Mrs Hudson for company! That's supposed to be a bonus is it? Anyway if I need somebody I can have you. Isn't that what you told me all those years ago?'

Molly blushed and giggled knowing somewhere deep down that she was in danger of embarrassing herself. 'I did say that a bit awkwardly didn't I, not that I didn't mean you couldn't have me, because you could, if you wanted to, not that you want to I mean...so, I'm not sure what I was saying. What was I saying?'

He leant in and Molly found herself mirroring his actions and leaning towards him, 'you were saying I could have you if I wanted you.' His voice was low in her ear, that deep baritone seeming to rumble right through her. She bit her lip and shook her head trying to feel a bit more sober.

He sat back in his chair and downed the rest of his pint, 'right, I think we've probably had enough. It's past eleven. Are you coming up Molly?'

He stood up and looked down on her smirking, dammit he's doing this on purpose, knowing how much he affects me, her fuddled brain was telling her.

'Mmm, I suppose so.'

She followed him up the stairs wondering how she was going to manage to sleep given all the dirty thoughts going through her mind right now.

 **Poor Molly, it seems Sherlock is in a flirty mood. If anyone wants to check out the print in her room I'm afraid I forget the title but it is an etching by Pieter Bruegel the Elder. All his etchings seem to be of a similar vein so you'll get the idea.**

 **Anyhow, I'll post the next chapter soon, maybe Sunday. Keep your reviews coming in, you know I love them xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**I know it's maybe a little slow going but I hope you don't mind me setting the scene and investing in the characters. The action will start to pick up I promise. This time we do start to get a bit of an insight into Sherlock's thoughts with regards to Molly. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 4**

Sherlock was soon ready for bed, although he was a bit put out about not having an en-suite bathroom. On the plus side though it didn't look as though he was sharing the main bathroom with anyone else.

He lay on his bed in the dark looking up at the patterns of light on the ceiling coming in from outside. His thoughts turning back to the flirtatious conversation he'd cut short with Molly. He needed to make a decision about something, something he had been putting off for a while now but was really starting to become a distraction; namely sex.

Abstaining had never really bothered him, not for years, but recently it had started too and it was getting worse. It started a couple of years ago with Irene; he'd been tempted, he really had. For the first time a woman had got the better of him, she was intelligent and attractive and he'd actually found himself considering it. Then only last year with Janine, she'd been fun and also attractive, very willing to put out, it had been a struggle to find reasons to keep saying no.

For months since then he'd frequently found himself dreaming and fantasising about sex; lurid, technicolour, rolling images of fucking someone. And more recently those nameless, faceless encounters had morphed into Molly and now she was in his head, now he'd shagged her a hundred different ways in his fantasies and he couldn't help wondering how the reality would compare. His biggest concern was sentiment though. Yes, he knew he could easily get her to sleep with him but she would expect emotions; feelings and those were things he felt he couldn't offer her. Was it fair to embark on something with her that he could only partly fulfil? That was his dilemma. She was his friend and she deserved more from him than a shag every few days.

But equally, not having her was driving him mad. When he had leant towards her that evening and commented about being able to have her he'd heard her breath hitch, saw the pulse in her neck speed up. When she'd looked at him her eyes had been fully dilated and her cheeks had had a delightful blush across them. Even just thinking about her was making him hard. Maybe if he were honest with her about how he felt or didn't feel they could make it work. She'd said herself, tonight, that she was lonely, that at least was something he could offer; companionship. Maybe it would be enough, but maybe not. He knew he'd probably end up doing nothing for fear of losing her as a friend but this dilemma was driving him to despair.

He was also concerned about this case. Cults and religious fervour, albeit subverted here, were one of the hardest to crack. It always amazed him the lengths people would go to for a belief system. Even just a cursory examinations of the village and its inhabitants had convinced Sherlock further that this young girl was caught up in something very evil and most definitely life threatening. The village was remote, effectively cut off from the rest of the world and civilisation. How easy it would be to corrupt those charged with moral leadership; the village priest, the doctor, the Lord of the manor, the pub landlord or landlady in this case.

He needed to try to find out who the ring leader was and based on that where Lily might be being held. They only had a few days before Walpurgis night and any potential sacrifice took place. He just hoped that that was enough time to get someone in the village talking, the trouble was who could they actually trust.

Molly meanwhile for all her concerns fell asleep with no thoughts at all. Sleep taking her before she was even aware of it.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When she got up the next morning she felt refreshed and excited for the day ahead. She'd spoken to Adrian later on in the evening and they were going for a wander round the village at about eleven, apparently he was not one of life's early risers.

By the time she got downstairs Sherlock was already there drinking a coffee and glancing through one of the morning papers. All she got from him was a curt, 'Molly'. Not a morning person then!

She made the most of someone else cooking to have a full English breakfast with lots of tea and toast before glancing through her own paper. She found herself feeling relaxed and comfortable with Sherlock and she even managed to engage him in some chit chat about a recent scientific discovery that was being reported on.

After a second coffee he informed her he was heading out and they agreed to meet back up over dinner to catch up and what they'd each found out.

She had a couple of hours to kill before she met Adrian so she made the most of her down time to go back to her room and read a book she'd downloaded on her kindle. Given this situation she was reading up about witchcraft and the occult and none of it was making her feel optimistic about this case. The more she read the more she worried about Lily and what might happen to her. It was hard to believe in this day and age with all of society's technology that there were people who believed in Devils and demons.

Whilst she was reading though she became aware of a strange sensation washing over her. It felt almost as though she were being watched. She kept putting the book down and examining the room as though looking for eyes following her, her eyes being drawn back each time to the demon inspired picture on her wall; it kept making her shudder. She tried to ignore it, telling herself it was just the contents of her book, the picture on the wall and her imagination, but in the end she felt so self-conscious and uncomfortable she ended up taking the book downstairs and reading it there.

Adrian, true to his word, came down just before eleven, looking tired and a bit dishevelled. He used his hands to sort his hair out and after he'd stolen some drinks and sandwiches for their lunch from the kitchens they set off.

The first stop wasn't far at all, the well in the centre of the pub. Adrian told her that the pub got its name in the early 1700's when witch hunting was at its worst. The village had had a couple of bad harvests and had been flooded and they turned to the local church for help. They in turn called in a witch hunter who had come to the village and identified half a dozen old or single women as witches.

Their fate had been the well. They had been thrown down, if they survived the fall they were witches and would be burnt at the stake and if they didn't...well everyone was very sorry and they would receive a Christian burial. But in the end the bodies were rumoured to have been left down there. 'It's said the pub is haunted. The women have been known to walk through the bar and wail at the edge of the well. The hauntings were said to have caused one landlord to go mad and throw himself down the well in 1933. His room was the one you're in upstairs...hope you're not gonna be too scared.'

He made a 'woo' sound whilst wiggling his fingers and laughed at her as she rolled her eyes at him, 'I think I'll be fine thank you. So what else is there?'

They made their way out of the pub into the crisp spring air, once again the clouds looked ominously like rain. It was just warm enough that Molly didn't need a coat, although she did have her favourite cardi on and a raincoat in her bag just in case. She had noticed Sherlock scrunch his nose up slightly when he'd seen the cherry covered cardigan but she didn't care, it wasn't like it was that that was putting him off being with her.

They turned left and walked towards the village green and the duck pond. Adrian had brought some food for them to throw down to the ducks and Molly felt like she was five years old again watching them all eagerly swimming over and waddling round their feet. At the side of the pond was a single standing stone at least seven feet tall.

Molly wandered around it trailing her hand on the cold stone. Adrian prattled on 'It's said to have magical powers. If you make a wish whilst holding the stone with both hands it's said to come true. Never has for me though but you should give it a try.'

Molly giggled and bit her lip giving it some thought. In the end she placed her hands on the stone and closed her eyes. _I wish Sherlock wanted a romantic relationship with me, but as a minimum a one night stand would do._

She felt strangely cold as she opened her eyes and saw that a dark cloud had covered what little sun there was momentarily. It still gave her a bit of a shiver down her spine though. As they walked away Adrian winked and said, 'oh, yes I forgot to mention. Hope your wish didn't involve a guy coz it's a fertility stone as well, you might just end up pregnant.' He laughed and ducked to the side as Molly gave his arm an outraged punch, 'thanks you could have warned me before! Now, what's the story behind the other standing stones? You seem to have quite a lot dotted around.'

'Now that goes back even further than the witches. It is said that back in medieval times the people of the village stopped going to church and became godless. Their argument was that they didn't believe in Satan and without the devil there was nothing in life to be afraid of. Why spend your time restricting yourself if there's no risk of punishment in the life beyond? I know, cool right. Anyway, they spent their down time drinking, having sex and dancing. The local priest was outraged and prayed to God to save them.'

'Except it wasn't God who answered the prayer. The devil, Satan himself, is said to have heard that they didn't believe in him and he came to the village and found them revelling and dancing and he petrified them where they stood to act as a warning to others that he existed.'

'Some of the stones were still used up until about fifty years ago for animal sacrifices to ensure he stayed away. You can still see where the blood soaked into the porous rock in places.'

They walked on for about another twenty minutes with Molly admiring the cottages and the pretty gardens. Adrian was less enamoured, 'you're kidding aren't you! It's so boring here! If I had the money I'd live in London. I'd love your lifestyle, all that nightlife, clubbing, men...so many men.'

Molly didn't say much, thinking about how the dream was different from the reality. Life spent clubbing had got tired for Molly quite quickly and being in unrequited love with a Consulting Detective had somewhat stymied all those men she could be hooking up with. She kept up a bit of a pretence with Adrian though, she didn't want to come across as too sad and pathetic.

At the edge of the village they climbed a small hill and looked round at the neighbouring countryside. Molly noticed a few other hills similar to the one they were stood on, they were so uniform in shape and size that she couldn't help but comment. Adrian looked at her with a sly smile, 'I wondered if you'd notice. Clever you! They're not hills, at least not normal hills they're burial mounds. Each one has a stone room inside, sometimes two rooms, where the dead used to be buried, there's even talk of connecting passageways between the mounds and the village though I've never found any. Some of the mounds are open, archaeologists came and explored them a few years ago. Fancy taking a look?'

Molly obviously wasn't squeamish about the dead but she had a natural distrust of entering some dark, prison like chamber with an almost stranger, that no doubt came from her friendship with Sherlock. In the end he was her excuse, she commented how much he'd like it and asked if they could save that until another day and Adrian was happy to defer.

They ate their makeshift picnic on the top of one of the Tors and talked about their lives and how they'd got to where they had. Adrian was fascinated by her job as a pathologist and how she'd got into it. Molly found herself explaining all about her father's death when she was a Junior doctor and how it had decided her on the road to pathology. She found herself telling him things she never normally would so early into a friendship but he just seemed so open and easy to talk to.

In turn she asked him about the village gossip and soon heard that although Hugh Bennett was married to Lily's mum village rumour had it that he'd long been having an affair with Meredith, the pub owner. 'So why didn't he marry her?' Asked a confused Molly when she heard the affair had been going on for years.

Adrian shrugged, 'dunno. Meredith's fiercely independent, can't see her being anyone's wife. Maybe he married Mel to spite her but then couldn't resist getting drawn back in. He's not the only one having an affair.' He looked sideways at Molly and smiled, 'you'd be amazed how many of the "straight" men of the village have come to me for sex.' He air quoted as he spoke and laughed at the shock on Molly's face.

'They all swear blind they're not gay, just experimenting you know, or they had too much to drink. But they always come back for more. I've had some nice trinkets bought for me along the way.' He held up his wrist to show off the expensive Tag Heuer watch he was wearing and wiggled the finger bedecked with a gold signet ring.

Eventually they made their way back to the pub; Molly asked about the families in the village and whether they were all local or if there were any newcomers. 'Lily's about the newest. Before that it that it was probably the Sladen's they moved into Almsbury Manor about thirty years ago. Current Lord Sladen is proper old school but gay as! And no, before you ask I haven't, he's ancient. Well sixties at least, too old for me. I do have some standards, though not many.' He smirked and Molly laughed. She was enjoying her day out with Adrian; he was a breath of fresh air, all happy and funny, making the most of life.

 **Sorry not much Sherlock in this one but I'll make up for it soon I promise...but he had a lot on his mind, poor lamb. What do you think, should he or shouldn't he make a move on Molly? Hmm now I wonder what you'll all say?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Back to a bit more Sherlock. I miss him when he's not in the chapter much. Have a good weekend xxx**

 **Chapter 5**

Sherlock was sat outside the pub with a pint when they got back. Molly joined him and after ordering a drink she filled him in on the events of her day. Sherlock was particularly interested in the burial mounds and the possibility of underground tunnels.

Molly was a little horrified, 'you don't think they're keeping the poor girl underground somewhere do you?'

Sherlock looked unperturbed, 'well, it would make sense, it would be an ideal hiding place. I can do some research online to see if there are any maps of the area showing the tunnels. Maybe we can check some of them out tomorrow.'

She also told him the gossip about Hugh Bennett and Meredith and the fact that there were some men in the village leading double lives. 'Unsurprising, you'd be amazed how many people seem to carry on extra-marital affairs with either the opposite or their own sex. Not many seem to actually believe in their vows. I don't know why people even bother with marriage, it seems to be purely for show and legality.'

Molly couldn't help but feel sad at Sherlock's views towards his fellow man but maybe sometimes his ability to deduce people wasn't such a good thing. It meant all he ever saw was the bad in people, the things they tried to cover up and didn't want others to see. Molly always tried to see the good in people. She couldn't help but feel positive and hopeful about life.

They soon went into the pub as the rain, which had threatened all day, started to fall. Their meal passed off uneventfully and Sherlock actually ate which was a novelty. It seemed even he had to succumb to his bodies needs every so often. She wondered if that was the same when it came to sex but she was too embarrassed to ask him. He wouldn't be likely to tell her anyway, 'oh yes Molly I masturbate twice a week, thank you for asking.' She couldn't help but giggle a little at the thought and Sherlock looked up from his salmon with a questioning eye.

They ended up retiring to their respective rooms quite early. Sherlock was liaising with Greg and wanted to catch up on various lines of enquiry as well as researching the tunnels. Molly had asked if there were anything she could do but he'd been quite dismissive.

It was only when she was back in her room that she remembered the strange feeling she'd had earlier in the day. That sense of being watched. She tried to ignore it and put it down to her just being overly sensitive. But after she'd showered and changed for bed it kept playing around at the back of her mind. It didn't help that the lamp cast strange shadows in the corners of the room and the drumming of the rain on the roof and window added to her feeling of foreboding. Twice Molly thought she saw something move out of the corner of her eye, her heart racing each time.

When she finally turned out the light and lay there in the dark all she did was lie rigidly in the bed listening to the rain coupled with the creaks and groans of the old building. She found herself jumping in fright at each and every one. She started to recite medical terminology to herself to take her mind off it but was distracted when she felt an icy breath of air on the back of her neck. She sat bolt upright scrabbling to switch on the light feeling as though her heart was trying to leap up into her throat. She looked around just in time to see what looked like a dark amorphous shape melt into the shadow.

She sat for a moment contemplating what to do, almost rocking with fear. All of Adrian's tales of demons and witches and death flooding into her mind making her more and more scared. She tried to reason with herself and tell herself that it was all in her imagination but when she turned out the light within minutes she swore she felt fingers slide over her skin and a cold, clammy hand gripped her ankle briefly. She pulled her foot away and tried to scream but the terror seemed to rob her of sound. This time when she put the light on she didn't hesitate. She just picked up her dressing gown and left the room.

She tapped lightly on Sherlock's door hoping he was still awake; closing her eyes briefly to give a thank you to the gods as she heard him moving to unlock it. As soon as he did she was over the threshold and had her arms wrapped around his waist needing to feel something solid and warm and real.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' she muttered as she held onto him. Gradually she felt his hands come up taking hold of the tops of her arms. He hesitantly moved away from her looking into her eyes with concern, 'what's wrong Molly? What's happened?' He looked over her shoulder into the corridor as if wondering whether something or someone was following her.

'Nothing, it's me, I'm being stupid.' Molly moved away and sat down on the edge of his bed as he moved to close the bedroom door. It was only then that she noticed he was dressed for bed in a t shirt and pyjama trousers. If it had been any other time she would have been filing that image away in her memory banks but she was still too freaked out to care.

He sat next to her, 'it's not like you to be stupid, well no more than most people anyway. What happened?'

Now she was with him she was starting to feel a little ridiculous, there was no way Sherlock was going to take her fears seriously. If the roles had been reversed she knew what her own reaction would have been but she also knew there was no way she was going back into that bedroom tonight.

She tried to tell him as clearly as she could but she could tell by his expression that he was getting exasperated. In the end she played a low card; the only ace she had, 'you said once, many years ago that you trusted me, that you'd always trusted me. Well prove it, trust me now when I say there is something weird going on. But please, please don't make me go back into that room.'

He was silent for a moment assessing her before he relented, 'fine you can sleep in here with me. We're both adults, I'm sure we can be respectful of each other.'

Molly tried to crack a smile, 'is that your way of telling me to keep my hands to myself.'

He followed her lead at trying to lighten the atmosphere and countered with, 'you never know I might be the one with the roving hands in the night.'

This time when she settled down to sleep the only thing keeping her awake was the knowledge that Sherlock was lying less than a foot from her. She felt safe and secure but also hyper aware of his breathing and movements in the bed. He fell asleep quite quickly and she listened to his breathing, feeling him next to her in the bed. She almost had to clench her hands to stop herself from reaching out for him. Images of him stood in his pyjamas now came into her mind tormenting her and making her bite her lip and squeeze her eyes shut trying to calm her breathing.

In the end though she did fall asleep and when she awoke in the morning it was to an empty bed. Looked like Sherlock had awoke before her and fled rather than face some awkward pillow talk. For that she was a little grateful, she wasn't sure she would really have been up for that either.

When she went back into her room to change for breakfast her fears from the night before seemed a bit daft; she hoped she would feel a bit more comfortable in the night to come. After all she'd slept in here fine the first night, maybe she just needed a few extra drinks to take her mind off it.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly found Sherlock drinking his coffee in the morning sun. He was sat in the beer garden attached to the pub. She ate lighter this time just choosing cereal and croissants whilst finding out Sherlock's plans for the day. He had only found vague references to the possible tunnels and was waiting for a call back from Lestrade to see if his team had been able to find out more. Nevertheless he was planning on the two of them exploring some of the burial chambers to see if they could uncover anything.

Molly couldn't help but frown a little at his outfit which unsurprisingly was spotted by Sherlock, 'do you have a problem with what I'm wearing Molly?' He asked, looking down at himself as if he might discover something untoward.

'Well, no, not really...'

'But?' He raised an eyebrow.

'Well, a suit doesn't seem the best outfit for tramping around fields and mucking around in a burial mound.'

'As I'm not planning on "mucking around" as you so delightfully put it I'm sure I'll be fine. Have you not finished eating yet?'

Molly rolled her eyes but picked up her croissant to eat on the go.

It didn't help that fifteen minutes into their walk the heavens opened effectively drowning the two of them. They ran the last five minutes and ducked into the grass covered entrance of the first mound they saw. Sherlock flicked on his torch and shone it around the small enclosed space. The tunnel into the mound was about six feet long and then opened out into a larger domed space about fifteen feet in diameter. It was completely empty though having long since been ransacked of both bodies and any valuables that might have been left with them.

Sherlock stamped about trying to see if there were any points on the floor with a different resonance but they came up blank, he moved on into the adjoining second chamber whilst Molly was looking at some carvings, taking the light source with him. Almost immediately Molly felt the air sticking in her throat, it was as though she couldn't breath. The darkness consumed her and all she could feel was the weight of all the stone and earth pressing down on her. She had always suffered from claustrophobia as a child but it had been years since it had affected her this much. A cold trickle of numbing fear slid down her spine.

She couldn't even call out to Sherlock, all she could do was close her eyes, her hands against the cool stone for stability and try to concentrate on just breathing. A moment later Sherlock was back complaining that there were no entrances or exits that he could find. The crushing sensation lifted as soon as his torch light flashed across her and she kept her face turned from him not wanting him to see how badly affected she had been. Last night had been embarrassing enough without him thinking she was scared of the dark and claustrophobic as well.

It was the same disappointment for Sherlock in the next four mounds that they visited, though Molly made sure to stick a little closer to him and not get left alone. He was getting increasingly grumpy but Molly was saved by the bell when his phone rang.

'What have you found?' Was Sherlock's curt answer. He listened for a few minutes, barked a couple of instructions and then hung up.

Molly couldn't help but chime in, 'you know it wouldn't hurt once in a while to say please or thank you.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, 'will it save Lily's life if I say my Ps and Qs? No, I don't think so, if it's not relevant to the case, it's not important.' He turned away as though the conversation were ended but Molly persisted.

'Maybe it's not relevant to the case but it's important to the people you need help from. If you treat them like dirt the day may come when they don't help or don't act as fast when you call, then that could jeopardise your cases. Anyhow, didn't your parents bring you up better than that...what would your mum say?'

Sherlock just grunted but led them back out into the fresh air. At least this time it had stopped raining. 'Lestrade says there may be some connection to the passageways from the church in the village. He's making contact with the vicar to ask him to meet us there. Apparently there is a crypt below the church which may help us.'

He ploughed on ahead with Molly half running to keep up. Life with Sherlock was certainly keeping her fit.

 **Hands up who wanted sexy times from them sharing a bed together. Well, can't move things along too fast. It's not called a slow-burn story for nothing. Patience ;).**


	6. Chapter 6

**I promise we will start upping the action very soon. I think it's about time we started getting to the heart of the story don't you. Thanks for bearing with me through all the build up, hope you're still enjoying it.**

 **Chapter 6**

It didn't take them too long to make their way back into the village and round to the small parish church. It was an oddity in this day and age for a village to have their own vicar but there he stood in the doorway waiting for them. He looked to be mid-fifties and dressed just as you would expect a village priest too with black shirt, dog collar and his hands in the pockets of a warm looking woollen cardigan. As they opened the gate into the graveyard he came forward to greet them looking a little pensive.

'Mr Holmes? I'm Rev David Tucker, I received a call from a Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard, he said you wanted to look around the church. Is that right?'

Sherlock shook his hand, introduced Molly and confirmed he was correct. The vicar turned back and walked them to the church.

'St Mary's has been the parish church here for over six hundred years. It's a fine old building, though the original stain glass windows were sadly destroyed during the reformation. Was there any part in particular you wanted to see? The police officer was quite vague?'

Sherlock glanced around as they entered only seeming to reply absent-mindedly, 'the crypt or any cellars the building might have.' He didn't follow the vicar however but made his way down the aisle towards the alter checking in the pews to the left and right as they went.

Molly came and stood next to the vicar who was watching him still looking slightly worried.

'Don't mind him, he gets quite focused on his work. It's a lovely building, have you been the vicar here for long?'

He turned to her and smiled, 'nearly thirty years now, I don't know where the time has gone. I was in my early twenties when I came back here. Can I ask what it is that you're looking for?' He started forwards nervously as he saw Sherlock walking around the altar, 'please, can I ask you not to go up there. It's a little disrespectful.'

Sherlock looked up and moved away, 'of course' he said as he put his hands in the pockets of his coat but Molly was sure she had seen him pick something up.

The vicar led them through to a door hidden behind the church organ. As they went through and he led them past the back of the organ he explained the origins of the pump organ and how in the past it had been powered by a man pumping bellows, 'of course, nowadays it's been converted to be run electronically but,' he pondered to himself, 'I often wonder if the sound is quite the same'. Another door was opened and a small wooden staircase led them down into the old cellar. It was obviously only used for storage nowadays and there were stacks of chairs and bags of items for jumble sales filling the space.

It was soon apparent that there were no other exit points in the cellar, no hidden doors in the walls or trap doors in the floor. The only thing which caught Sherlock's interest was a symbol which had been scratched into the stonework on one of the ceiling lintels. It looked as though it had been there for hundreds of years and was very worn. Sherlock took a photo and asked the vicar if he knew anything about it but he had no information at all, had never paid much attention to it.

As they came back out of the cellar Sherlock suddenly asked, 'you said earlier that you had come back here, does that mean you grew up here?'

Molly saw the priest jump slightly, 'I...er..yes. My family come from the village. I left home at eighteen to go to University, seek out the bright lights...you know that kind of thing. Trouble is there's no place like home so when I entered the priesthood and this living came up I couldn't resist. Is there anything else you need to see, you still haven't mentioned what it is you're looking for?'

Sherlock declined to answer and Molly followed his lead just smiling apologetically at the concerned vicar. Sherlock walked up the side aisles ducking every so often to look under the pews but in the end Sherlock thanked the priest for his time and after a brief look in the vestry and choir changing rooms they left.

The sun was now shining in earnest and Molly took off her jacket as they made their way back to the pub. 'So what did you take from the alter?' She asked, once she was sure they were out of earshot.

Sherlock glanced at her and smiled, 'you noticed that! Well done.' He put his hand in his pocket and took out his handkerchief which he carefully unwrapped until he was able to show Molly a small blob of black wax.

'Wax from a black candle. Not good in a church, black candles are often used in Black Masses and never in a normal Christian service. It would seem our vicar is very much part of whatever is going on here and the church itself has been used for some of their ceremonies. Not surprising, many of cults believe there is great power in subverting Christian symbols and places of worship. Plus he was afraid, very afraid. He covered it well but he was unhappy about us being there and was hiding something...probably this and his involvement.'

Molly was more than a little shocked. She had purely took him at face value, that of being a middle aged and kindly vicar, just like the ones she'd known in her childhood when her mum had taken her to church. Her family hadn't been overly religious but in a small community it had still been the thing to do on a Sunday morning.

Sherlock also took out his iPhone and showed Molly the photograph that he had taken of the glyph in the basement, 'plus this! It looks as though the Satanism in this church and village is nothing new but rather deeply ingrained. This is a Brimstone Sigel, a sign of the church of Satan. Whatever we're dealing with goes deep into the roots and history of this whole place. We need to be careful Molly, we don't know who we can trust here!'

Molly shivered even with the heat of the recently appeared sun on her face. The church graveyard suddenly felt oppressive even though being close to the dead normally gave her a sense of calmness. It was as if everything she knew in her life was being turned on its head in this place. Sherlock seemed like her only touchstone to normality and as they made their way back to the pub she couldn't help but walk a little closer to him, needing to feel him nearby.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _He watched them from the shade of the yew tree in the graveyard. Who the fuck did they think they were coming into his patch and stirring up trouble? He'd been watching them for the last couple of days asking all their questions, investigating that sweet, young bitch's disappearance._

 _Oh he knew who this guy was. He'd read all about Sherlock fucking Holmes and his deductive super powers. Well he wasn't going to be able to rely upon them here. They had so much more on their side than simple human observation. As for the pathetic lap dog wandering around behind him desperately lapping up any crumb she could find...well, she was giving him ideas._

 _They could do with a run through; make sure everything was perfect for the big night. He didn't want anything to go wrong so maybe scaring them and showing them who's boss could kill two birds with one stone._

 _It would be oh so simple...only a little planning required..._

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly ordered herself a third drink at the bar. She knew she was maybe drinking a bit more than she ought but she didn't want to end up in Sherlock's bed again. At least she did but not because she was too scared to sleep in her own bed.

She groaned, shaking her head and trying not to think of Sherlock in his pyjamas.

'Oh oh, looks like someone's drinking to forget. Did something happen between you and Mister Adonis last night?'

Molly looked up to see Adrian smiling widely at her as he placed her next drink on the bar. She took a soothing sip and rolled her eyes, 'I wish. No absolutely nothing happened. I don't think he even notices I'm a woman, at least not like that.'

'You know what you should do. You should just show up in his bedroom butt naked. That'd get his attention, bet he wouldn't be able to resist you then.'

Molly raised her eyebrows, thinking back to something she remembered John saying about Sherlock's first meeting with Ms Adler, 'oh I'm sure he could.'

Adrian leant on the bar resting his chin on his hand and looked over at Sherlock who was doing something with his phone, 'it just doesn't seem right that someone that hot should not put out. Surely it's a crime against humanity or something. I can just imagine him all naked and sweaty.'

Molly drank some more of her drink aware of a nice warm fuzzy glow as she followed Adrian's lead and stared over, watching those beautiful long fingers dancing over the keyboard. 'God, could you imagine what he could do with his hands?' She sighed, hearing Adrian doing the same.

'He's got big feet as well.'

Molly looked at Adrian quizzically, 'big feet? What, have you got a foot fetish?'

Adrian screwed his face up, 'no...well...maybe just a little,' he grinned. 'No, you must have heard the saying...big feet equals big cock!'

Molly blushed and snorted with laughter causing Sherlock to glance up at them briefly. He narrowed his eyes as he looked from one to the other. They had both turned away but Molly knew that it would have been just a little too late.

Adrian whispered, 'it's as though he's undressing me with his eyes when he does that. Is that his deducing look coz if it is he can deduce me anytime he likes!'

Molly couldn't quite agree with him here, she'd been on the receiving end of Sherlock's scathing deductions too many times to find them not particularly sexy. 'He's quite authoritative at times.' She ventured, 'I'm a feminist so I shouldn't like it but...I have to admit it really turns me on when he bosses me about.'

'Hmm, so we're adding dominant in the bedroom to his list of attributes, it's just getting longer and longer isn't it. We have so got to get him in your bed. He looks like he needs a good shag, he's too buttoned up...oh, which brings me right back to those damned tight shirts.' Adrian stood up and shook himself as though to wake back up. Just at that moment he was called over to serve some more drinks so Molly made her way back to Sherlock.

'Should I feel violated Molly? Or were you and Adrian discussing the make and model of the phone I'm using?'

Molly ducked her head to hide her blush, 'well, yes I was telling him you quite liked your new iPhone. He's thinking of getting one himself.'

She could feel Sherlock's gaze even though she didn't dare look up, she just concentrated on her drink.

A disbelieving 'hmm' was all she got from him causing her to stifle a giggle. Her wine was going down really easily tonight though and by the time she made her way up to bed she was feeling both exhausted and very disoriented. She had little memory of making it to bed and when she did she fell asleep immediately without any fears or ghostly interruptions.

 **I'll be back later in the week with the next chapter and things when things start hotting up but for all he wrong reasons...**


	7. Chapter 7

**So this is a slightly darker more angsty chapter and there are trigger warnings for non-consensual sex. I wanted to make it clear though that there won't be a lot of this throughout the story and all references in this chapter are in flashback.**

 **By the way, thank you for all your reviews and comments and follows and favourites, glad you're enjoying it so far.**

 **Chapter 7**

Molly woke up the next day feeling hellishly groggy and hung over. The sun shining through the curtains seemed to burn into her eyes and she groaned as she flung her arm over her face. Weird snippets of her dreams came back to her adding to her discomfort. Not for the first time she'd dreamt of Sherlock but this was just downright odd, not her normal sort of dream. She'd been shackled to a bed in some kind of underground cave, no doubt inspired by their trip round the burial mounds the day before.

They hadn't been alone, surrounding them had been half a dozen people wearing cloaks and masks watching and chanting. Molly felt embarrassed just thinking about it, she was obviously getting too invested in this case for it to seep into her sub-conscious like this. She'd been naked as had Sherlock and she had been lying on the bed, holding onto the chains at her wrist whilst squirming with desire, trying to rub her legs together to gain some kind of friction. He'd looked just as turned on, his erection jutting out in front of him as he was held by two of the onlookers.

When they'd let him go he'd come straight to her, if she closed her eyes she could almost feel him climbing on top of her and roughly pushing her knees apart before he'd just thrust straight into her without any kind of foreplay or preamble. Not that she'd minded, she'd wanted it, wanted him and she hadn't cared, in her dream, who was watching. All that mattered was that he was fucking her and helping her reach her release.

She threw the covers off herself and padded into the en suite. She needed a shower, she'd made herself feel a bit grubby. She'd never had quite such a kinky imagination before.

She had to admit she felt much better after her shower. She left her hair down, to dry naturally and went in search of some coffee and maybe an aspirin or two. At least the extra drinks had done the trick of stopping her feeling scared at night, though maybe she could have done with one or two less, she couldn't even remember going to bed that clearly.

For once, it appeared she'd beaten Sherlock to breakfast. It gave her a chance to eat more leisurely and read a paper whilst she sipped at her tea. He appeared just as she was finishing her second cup and she was surprised by how dishevelled he looked, 'hi, didn't you sleep well, you look...umm..rough?'

He sat down opposite her and scanned her face, she could tell he was trying to deduce her, 'what's up?'

'How did you sleep Molly? Any bad dreams at all?'

Molly blushed remembering her sex fantasies of him; he wouldn't be able to tell that...would he?

'Not bad, just...weird, strange. Why?'

He suddenly reached for her hand and pulled it towards him whilst she frowned and watched, wondering what he was up too. He turned her wrist over and his thumb grazed across a slight red mark that Molly hadn't spotted before. Then he reached up and moved her hair away from her neck and tugged on the collar of her t-shirt to pull it down slightly. Whatever he saw made him push the chair back so harshly it fell over. He seemed to stagger backwards before turning and almost running out of the door to the garden at the back of the pub.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock felt as if all the air in his lungs had been removed. He stopped on the path outside of the pub and leant over with his hands on his knees trying to breathe but his head swam and he thought for a moment that he might even be sick.

He hadn't wanted to believe it was true but deep down, from the moment he'd awoken, he'd known it was. He had been a drug addict for long enough to know the after effects.

His mind swam with images, Molly lying on a makeshift bed, chains at her wrists pulling on them and staring at him with eyes so full of lust. He could remember how painfully hard he had been, it had been overwhelming. Whatever he...no they had been given had been mind-altering as well as acting as some kind of powerful aphrodisiac. He remembered the aching, desperate need that he had felt for her. He hadn't wanted to be kept away and felt euphoric when those holding him had let him go. Immediately he had gone to her; feeling her under him, how good it had felt to thrust into her as she held onto her chains urging him on.

Even in the midst of it all though he must have had some doubt in his mind that it might not be the dream that it seemed to be. He'd bent his head to her neck and at the same time as he fucked her he had marked her, sucking on her skin until it was red and bruised.

He had hoped beyond hope when he came down to breakfast that that mark wouldn't be there...but it had been.

'Sherlock...are you OK? What's the matter?'

He felt her hands on his back and shoulders guiding him back until he could sit on the edge of one of the benches dotted around the beer garden at the back of the pub. Molly perched herself next to him and he could barely look at her, how could he tell her that he had effectively raped her?

'Please, Sherlock, I've never seen you like this. Please tell me what's wrong?'

She put her hand to his cheek trying to turn his face towards her but he leant back, pulling himself out of her grasp. He needed to get control of himself, this wasn't helping anyone.

He took a couple of shuddering breaths and when he felt his heart rate starting to lower he spoke, 'it wasn't a dream Molly, none of it. We must have been drugged, I have a few ideas what it was but we'll need to take blood tests to be sure.'

He finally glanced at her to find her looking at him in complete confusion, 'what wasn't a dream?' But she spoke quietly as though she didn't really want to hear his answer.

He pursed his lips, before forcing himself to go on, 'you, me, last night. We...I...I raped you. God, Molly I am so sorry. I should have done something; I should have realised...or tried harder...'

She pulled away from him and sat there, with her hands suddenly useless in her lap and he saw the blood actually drain from her horrified face as she stared at the ground trying to take in what he had just said.

'Please say something Molly. Do you understand what I'm telling you?'

She shook her head slowly from side to side, 'no...no..you're wrong. I'd know...I...' She caught sight of the red mark across her wrists and held her hands up turning them over and back again. Then she put her hand to her neck, to the site of his mark. 'What's on my neck?' Her voice was barely a whisper.

'I did it, I think I was trying to prove to myself that it wasn't real but I ended up proving that it was.'

Molly was reeling. Her emotions felt almost numb as though she couldn't take in what her brain knew to be true. She'd had sex with Sherlock, but in the most horrific and humiliating circumstances. The trouble was all she could remember clearly was how good it had felt, how much she'd wanted him...what did that say about her? She should be feeling disgusted...and she was but not with him, with the people who had done this to them.

She suddenly became aware that he was sat with his head in his hands; he'd said that he'd raped her but that wasn't true.

She reached for his hand pulling it from his face and holding it in her own much smaller one. 'It's OK Sherlock...this...' She gulped trying to find the words, '...this is not your fault. You are just as much of a victim in this as I am. You are not to blame.'

Now it was his turn to shake his head, 'but I was unrestrained, I obviously knew something wasn't right which was why I gave you that love bite, I should have done more, I should have fought them.'

'No, you can't think like that. We need to use this, we need to get the people who did this to us, who could do this to Lily. This is evidence, you can use it. I...um...I remember the ceiling, it was rough...stone...like some kind of underground cavern...' She swallowed heavily and Sherlock could see how much effort this was costing her, 'they had brown robes, heavy wool. I'm sure one of them was a woman, I saw long hair...blond.'

Her determination gave him the strength to do the same, he listened to her recounting any bits of information she could remember and he added to it his own recollections. He felt sure that with a geological map they would be able to narrow down where this cavern could potentially be. He also wanted to confirm his suspicions regarding the drugs they'd had used on them. Action and control made him feel better than any apology or sentiment.

'We need to report this to Lestrade.' He ploughed on when he saw Molly blanch and shake her head, 'Molly, it's a crime, we have to. He'll be discreet, no one else need know. He'll be able to link us up with a facility to help us take blood samples.' He took out his phone and started dialling. Molly stood quickly.

'I...I just need a moment before we leave.'

He stood with her, his phone forgotten momentarily. He put up his hand towards her but stopped before he touched her letting it fall back down again, 'are you OK? Is there anything I can do?'

She tried to smile to reassure him but it felt and looked forced, 'I just need to go back to my room. I'll be back down soon. You talk to Greg but I don't want to hear it.'

She turned and walked away leaving Sherlock staring helplessly after her.

Back in her room she sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. All the same images and feelings came roaring back. She could taste him; feel his skin sliding against hers but underlying it all now was a sense of utter humiliation. Who had been there watching them? Who had drugged them? They must have took her from this very room. She looked around nervously as though she might find them still there.

A single choked sob escaped her and she bit the back of her hand willing herself not to give it to her feelings. She needed to stay strong, to help Sherlock solve it. She needed to feel anger rather than despair. It just seemed like the worst kind of trick that the one thing she had wanted so desperately had been granted to her but in such horrific circumstances.

In the end she washed her face in the small sink in the en suite and looked herself square in the eye in the mirror before making her way back downstairs.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

They ended up taking a cab just over twenty miles to the nearest hospital, one which supported the local police, where Lestrade had called ahead to help gain them access to any equipment they required. It felt good to be back in a lab.

As they waited for a toxicology report on their bloods Sherlock decided to raise something with Molly that he was sure would not be well received, 'Molly I think you should go back to London.'

Her head swung round in shock, 'what, no!'

'Yes...Molly it's clearly not safe for you. I don't need you here. You'll just be a distraction to me.'

 **Really interested to know what you think of this development...and what do you reckon, should Molly go home?**


	8. Chapter 8

**So it was a 100% consensus that Molly should stay...and well, of course she should. It wouldn't be much of a Sherlolly fic without her ;). Thank you for all your comments; I'm glad you're finding the new turn of events intriguing, I hope their reactions to it are realistic. Anyway, on with the story.**

 **Oh and Happy Valentines's Day!**

 **Chapter 8**

As he saw her jaw tighten he knew it was a lost cause, 'Sherlock Holmes if you think I am going to leave you alone with this you've got another thing coming. If it's not safe for me then it's just as not safe for you. Are you going back to London? No, I didn't think so, so neither am I!'

He couldn't help but be a little impressed with her outburst. His lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile but she saw and after initially frowning she couldn't help but smile in return. 'Fine, you can stay, but we need to take precautions. We'll eat somewhere else this evening and make sure anything we drink is sealed, water...or wine...whatever we can be certain hasn't been tampered with.'

He continued, 'I suspect the drugs were administered in our drinks, can you remember them being left at all or seeing anybody near them...anything like that?'

Molly gave it some thought before she recollected ordering one set of drinks from Adrian then nipping to the loo whilst he was serving them. When she'd got back they were waiting for her on the bar. She recalled the event for Sherlock adding, 'Adrian was busy serving others when I got back, it could have been anybody in the bar last night.' As far as Molly could make out half of the village had been there. She'd even seen the vicar at one point sipping on a pint and chatting to a man whom Sherlock had informed her was Lord Sladen.

The results of the blood tests gave Molly some peace of mind; neither her nor Sherlock had any STDs of any kind and as she was on the pill at least she didn't have to worry about a pregnancy scare. The tests also and predominantly gave Sherlock some extra lines of enquiry to follow up. None of the drugs were easily available so he wanted to check local pharmacies and doctors although nowadays people could order almost anything online and have it delivered to their home.

They went round the shops and surgeries local to the village with Sherlock flashing a badge which looked suspiciously like Lestrades in order to get people to talk but it once again came to nothing. Molly could tell that Sherlock was getting increasingly frustrated and in the end they agreed to go back to the pub so he could spend some time in his mind palace. Molly picked up some chips on the way and decided to eat in her room to give him some time alone.

It didn't help that there was a certain awkward politeness that seemed to exist between them now. Sherlock was being unnaturally nice to her and it just didn't feel right. She knew that he was still blaming himself to some extent for what had happened. But since their initial conversation neither of them had really talked about it or how they felt.

Molly sat in her room with every light switched on trying to tell herself that she was OK and that she was safe as she absentmindedly picked at the chips. Flashbacks from the night before still haunting her as they had all day. She was angry...angry with whoever had done this to them, forcing them to degrade themselves for others entertainment. And underneath it all Molly was disgusted with herself for having enjoyed it, for still feeling turned on when she recalled the feel of him moving against her, his hands on her skin, his mouth on her mouth. She knew this reaction was only partly the drugs. It had fulfilled a long held desire that she'd had for years now.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Molly would have been most surprised if she had realised that Sherlock was similarly troubled. He'd entered his mind palace with the express purpose of cataloguing all the information they had gathered, trying to make sure he explored any gaps and came up with a plan of action for the following day. Time was running out and he hadn't made as much progress as he would have liked.

The problem was when he closed his eyes and relaxed all he saw was Molly lying naked in front of him. He groaned and wiped a hand across his face before resettling and trying again. It was after ten minutes or so that he realised his thoughts had moved away from the case and he was in Molly's room within his mind palace recalling the noises she had made as she had come, filing away how she had called out his name and recollecting the taste and the smell of her. He didn't need to open his eyes and look to know that he was hard just thinking about it. A wave of guilt washed over him, he had violated her in the most brutal way possible and what...now he was going to get off on it. No!

He sat up suddenly, breaking himself out of his meditation. He picked up the bottled water from the bedside cabinet and took a deep cleansing draft. He was also furious with himself at been outmanoeuvred. He hated to lose and he was more determined than ever to identify the ring leader. Someone in this village was toying with them and Sherlock would find out who it was and...he slid the top drawer of the chest of drawers open and moved his shirts to one side checking once again that John's gun was still there. Molly didn't know he had it but he'd felt they needed it for protection, not that it had done them much good last night. They could fool him once but it would not happen again. He would keep Molly safe now, no matter what the cost was.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly eventually turned her light out just after eleven and listened to the noises in the bar below, the muffled chatter and laughter. It was no good though! Within about fifteen minutes she knew there was no way that she would be able to sleep alone. She didn't care how awkward it was she needed to be with him, she just didn't feel safe in here on her own.

She tapped on his door and he opened it looking equally tired and disturbed. Neither of them said a word as he opened the door further so she could come in. Words just weren't needed.

Molly climbed into his bed and when he joined her he put his arm around her waist holding her against him, her back to his chest. This time when the light was turned out they were both asleep within moments.

In the morning Molly awoke just as Sherlock re-entered the bedroom. She rolled over rubbing her eyes and yawning to see him drying his hair with one towel with another slung around his waist, obviously having just had a shower or bath.

She was about to say something when he slung the towel he'd used on his hair onto the bed and took the towel from his waist to dry his body.

For a moment Molly's eyes were glued to his naked form, possible as wide as saucers before she yelled and rolled away, quickly sitting up on the other side of the bed, 'Sherlock!' She said remonstratively.

'What... oh Molly you're not going to be prudish? We may have been drugged but it didn't affect my memory of events. You've already seen me naked as have I you.'

Molly blushed, 'maybe so but, but...that doesn't make us...oh, I don't know...this familiar with each other. She stood up and shielding her eyes she scooted round the bed towards the door. She hesitated as she saw his naked feet come into view knowing she'd have to get past him to exit the room. But given there was not much space she wasn't sure how to do it without brushing up against him.

He sighed and rewrapped the towel around his waist, 'happy now!'

She dropped her hand and raised her eyebrows, 'yes, thank you. I'll see you in a few minutes for breakfast...' She looked at him suddenly nervous, 'that should be OK shouldn't it, breakfast I mean, no one would drug that, would they?'

'Yes it should be fine. I'll order your usual should I?'

She nodded and thanked him before leaving; looked like polite and nice Sherlock was still in existence. Trouble was she now had a new set of naked images invading her head and these ones felt so much more real. Did he really feel that comfortable around her now? She swore she would never understand that man.

Breakfast was a fairly rushed event, neither of them feeling one hundred percent at ease in the pub anymore. Sherlock wanted them to go up to the local 'big house' and talk to Lord Sladen. He'd been investigating him online as well as through Mycroft and he had his suspicions that he might be the ring leader in all this.

The weather was once again dark and ominously overcast but they made it to the Manor House without getting wet. It must have been built about three hundred years ago from the architecture and would have belonged to the local Lord. Sherlock explained, however, that it had only been in the Sladen family for about thirty years. His father had bought it and the current Lord Sladen had inherited it on his father's death about fifteen years ago.

Sherlock rang the bell and waited, a few moments later the door was opened by a strict looking middle aged woman, she looked like some kind of housekeeper to Molly, especially given Adrian's comments about Lord Sladen's sexuality.

'Yes!'

'Sherlock Holmes to see Lord Sladen.' He handed over his card.

She glanced at it briefly before barking, 'Do you have an appointment?'

'No, but if you mention my name and tell him my brother Mycroft sends his compliments I'm sure he'll see me.'

She pursed her lips and sighed but opened the door to let them in. 'If you'll just wait here.'

She left them in the impressive hallway as she went through a set of double doors on the left.

Molly looked around at the old fashioned but monied pictures and furnishings, 'well, he's not skint then!'

'No, they made their money in coal mining over the last one hundred years or so and got out before things crashed in the eighties. The title however has been in the family for centuries although for many of the years the family had to live off their name and their wits, the original Sladen estate was sold off in the early eighteen hundreds to pay off debts.'

He turned back around as the housekeeper returned, this time she looked slightly more welcoming, 'yes, Lord Sladen will see you, if you'd like to come this way.'

She led them through a dining room and into what was obviously his study where an elderly but friendly gentleman came forward. He looked to Molly like somebody's favourite uncle.

'Mr Holmes? I take it you must be Mycroft's famous younger brother, the detective. What brings you to our neck of the woods and how can I help? Iris, can you bring us some tea and biscuits or cake or something, whatever there is? Sit down, sit down. Now who is this lovely young lady, Mrs Holmes I presume?' He took Molly's hand and kissed the back. Molly blushed and giggled a little at the mis-understanding and the old fashioned charm, he was like something out of the 1920's.

'Erm no, I'm just an acquaintance, Molly Hooper.'

'Well then Molly you are more than welcome, sit down.' He gestured them towards an ancient looking green, leather, studded settee and sat himself in a wing back chair over to the side.

'Lord Sladen...'

'Oh please, call me Jimmy, all my friends do.'

Sherlock grimaced ever so slightly but complied, 'Jimmy, we're here in the village investigating the disappearance of Lily Shepherd.'

Lord Sladen's eyebrows rose in surprise, 'really, I wouldn't have thought that was worth your while. I heard she'd run off with her boyfriend or some such. She'll turn up again in due course, no doubt about it.'

'I'm not so sure about that. The boyfriend is still around and her mother is convinced that that isn't the case and I agree. Lord Sladen have you ever come across any occultism in the village?'

Molly saw the old man's eyes narrow momentarily before he put a shocked expression on his face, 'what you mean like witchcraft? Oh my dear fellow we haven't had witches in Almsbury for a few hundred years. I think you're barking up the wrong tree there.'

'And yet you have at least twenty books in your library on just such a subject?' Sherlock waved his hand towards the bookcase on the opposite side of the room.

Lord Sladen laughed, 'well, I can certainly see why you got your reputation.' He broke off for a moment as the tea and biscuits were brought in. 'Thank you Iris.'

As the door shut behind the housekeeper he continued, 'well, OK I have an interest in spiritualism and the occult, who wouldn't living in such a place as this, steeped in folklore and history. It doesn't mean any of it is still in practice, at least not that I am aware of. But you never know in these old places, my family are still deemed as new comers and we've been here thirty years there may well be stuff going on that I don't get to hear about. Now come on, have some tea, biscuit Molly?'

They stayed another twenty minutes but weren't able to get much more information from him. He either knew nothing or was shutting them down.

Sherlock was of the opinion it was the latter although he snorted when Molly asked if he still thought Lord Sladen might be the ring leader, 'oh I doubt it Molly. He only has a head to stop his ears from flapping together.'

 **That final line was a description of Nigel Bruce's Doctor Watson (opposite Basil Rathbone's Sherlock) though I'm afraid I can't remember who said it. It made me laugh many years ago and I've always remembered it so couldn't resist using it here.**


	9. Chapter 9

**So, here I am enjoying the half term holidays. There are blue skies outside and all is well with the world...well my small bit of the world anyway. I hope wherever you are things are good for you too. And if not maybe a bit of Sherlolly can cheer you up.**

 **I keep forgetting to say it but thank you for your reviews and as always I own nothing.**

 **Chapter 9**

 _He'd watched them as they made their way up to the big house. Looked as though they wanted to interview Sladen, well good luck to them. He might not be the brightest bulb in the box but Sladen knew how to keep his mouth shut. Unlike some. He'd had to put in a call to one of his 'flock' he had a concern this person was planning on spilling their secrets to this Holmes guy and he'd worked too long and hard to let that happen._

 _Well, maybe it was time he set an example to the rest. He would not tolerate any weakness or disloyalty especially not now, he...they were so close._

 _He also needed to do something about these two. He couldn't believe they were still here after the 'incident' the other night. He closed his eyes remembering the night in question. It had all gone perfectly, from planting the drugs to removing them from their rooms. Watching them rutting together had been such a rush, he'd felt the power from the event soaking through his body. He had been called to this and now he was being rewarded._

 _Their continued presence didn't help though and he needed to t_ _hink of another way_ _to get rid of them._

 _He turned and walked away pulling out his mobile._

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Lunch was a quick sandwich from the local shop, which doubled up as a post office. Sherlock had declined anything so Molly was eating as they walked listening to Sherlock throw ideas around. Thankfully the weather had perked up since earlier and Molly was enjoying feeling the sun on her face. It made such a difference to the feel of the small village, making it seem so much more friendly and welcoming. At least that was what she tried to tell herself.

'So what next?' Molly asked between bites.

'There are five days left until Beltane. There must be somebody who has a connection, who knows some of what is going on. Someone must have left their cult or be willing to talk. I want to call on the vicar again. We know he's connected. Maybe we can put some pressure on him; get him to talk.'

Molly looked anxiously at Sherlock, 'what exactly do you mean by pressure?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes, 'oh, don't worry Molly, nothing too illegal. Come on.'

Half an hour later Molly's sandwich was all finished and they were standing in front of a rangy looking Victorian vicarage ringing on the doorbell. There was no answer but that didn't deter Sherlock who turned the door handle to see if it was open. When it didn't budge he started to circle around the house checking the sash windows, pushing to see if any would open.

Molly's eyes were as wide as saucers as she followed him round glancing around them to make sure they weren't being seen, 'Sherlock,' she hissed, 'what are you...we..doing?'

'Calm down Molly, having a quick look around won't hurt anyone. Don't you find this a bit unusual though?'

'What?'

'This, I mean. Look at the place, it's a warm day in a quiet, seemingly crime-free country village and this place is locked down like Fort Knox.'

'Well, maybe he's just security conscious, I know I am. I don't leave windows open when I'm not in.'

'Yes, but you live in London. That's just sensible. Look around at the other houses in the village. People are taking advantage of the good weather to 'air their houses' God knows why but it seems to be a thing. Mrs Hudson is forever flinging open windows for that very reason.'

He'd come to the fence leading to the back of the property and, after jiggling the handle on the gate, Molly was ever hopeful that they could leave but no! A second later and he was using a nearby plant pot to give him a foot up so he could scale the fence and drop down over the other side. A few seconds later the back gate was opened to let Molly through.

He laughed at the expression on her face as she walked through, 'you'll never make a criminal will you Molly. You're looking guilty before we've even done anything.'

He went round to the back door and again tried the handle before checking under nearby pots and bricks to see if a key had been left hidden but there was nothing.

In the end he reached into an inside pocket and brought out a small, flat leather pouch which he unrolled to show a selection of what looked like metal tooth picks. He got to work on the lock ignoring Molly whose blood pressure felt like it was going through the roof.

A click signalled his success and he pushed open the door and made his way through into some sort of utility room. There were muddy boots by the door, an ancient looking washing machine and a pile of clothes obviously waiting to be ironed. They made their way through the kitchen and into a large hallway.

Molly felt all her senses straining, listening for any sound of the vicar returning home. Sherlock honed in on the man's study and spent some time leafing through his papers and checking through the books lining the walls.

'Hmm, it's interesting how many of these books were also in Lord Sladen's collection. There seems to be a running theme of occultism and Satanism. He opened a couple looking to see if there were any notes or inscriptions.

'Now this is interesting.' He held the book out to show Molly. It was entitled _Hints to Young Students of Occultism by L.W. Rogers_ and looked to be fairly old. There was an inscription on the inside leaf in an old fashioned copperplate handwriting **John Hugo Bennett Aug 1937**.

'I'm thinking we have a link to Lily's step-father here though obviously an older relative. Maybe he isn't the innocent in this he's making out to be. That would make sense...he could be the mystery man that Lily refers to in her diary. As her step-father he would have some not inconsiderable influence in her life.'

Sherlock pocketed the book before leaving the room and heading up the stairs. It was when they searched an old wardrobe in one of the spare bedrooms that they found a more telling connection. A familiar brown wool robe which made Molly feel sick to her stomach when Sherlock pulled it out. He'd been there. That kindly looking vicar had been there watching her and Sherlock as they'd...

She sat down on the edge of the unmade bed clutching her stomach. Sherlock glanced at her briefly before laying the robe out on the floor and examining it with his pocket magnifying glass. He took a couple of samples from it, particularly scrapings of dirt from around the hemline before he put it back in the wardrobe. Molly just watched him silently.

After he'd finished he sat next to Molly on the bed keeping a couple of inches between them, his hands clasped between his open legs.

'Are you OK?' He asked as he looked at her.

'No, not really. Seeing that robe...it just makes it seem real somehow. It's all just felt a bit like a dream. I mean, that's what I'd thought it was...just a dream.'

'You always have dreams like that then?' Sherlock smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

'They really did this to us didn't they? They drugged us and stripped us and stood there and watched as we...' Molly couldn't finish, a sob breaking out.

'I promise you Molly. I will find them and I will do whatever I need to, to get you...to get us justice.'

Molly nodded silently wishing she could stop the tears rolling down her face. She knew Sherlock hated shows of emotion. But just then he put his arm around her shoulder and tentatively pulled her towards him, as if he thought she might fight him off at any moment.

Molly shifted over and turned to put her face against his chest. Her silent tears turned to sobs and for the first time she really cried about what had been done to her...to them. Sherlock just held her until they subsided.

'I'm sorry. I just...maybe I just needed that. I'm OK...at least I will be. Can we go now? I'd rather not get arrested for breaking and entering just because my emotional breakdown delayed us.'

'Yes, of course. Come on.'

He led them back out and they exited by the same route they'd come in with Sherlock relocking the back door behind them. Just as he was about to walk away he suddenly glanced round.

Molly followed his gaze around the garden, 'what? What is it?'

He narrowed his eyes for a moment before shaking his head, 'nothing...nothing. It just felt for a moment like we were being watched.'

Molly had felt like that the whole time they'd been in the house so she was certainly happier as they walked away from it and back into the sunlight.

Sherlock was keen to test the samples that they'd taken from the robes so after a quick call to a local taxi firm they were soon on their way back to the hospital they'd used the day before. As they drove out of the village Molly could almost feel a weight lifting from her shoulders that she hadn't realised was there. This place was playing with her mood and her emotions making her feel paranoid and scared and she didn't like it, but she wouldn't desert Sherlock, he needed her and right now she needed him too. They were stuck in this together.

The soil samples from the robes confirmed that wherever they had been taken was within a ten mile radius of the village. Their recollection of the stone hewn chamber narrowed it down still further when Sherlock cross referenced it with the geology of the area. It was either central to the village or somewhere to the west but this still didn't help them to work out how they could access this so called tunnel system.

By the time they got back to the pub it was fairly late. Sherlock asked if she wanted a drink before they retired but she couldn't stand the thought of sitting there looking at the faces of the other patrons and wondering which of them had participated that night, which of them had seen her and Sherlock and done nothing to help them.

'No, I'm going to go up. Is it...do you mind if I sleep in your room again tonight? I just feel safer.'

'Yes, of course. You get to sleep I'll be up in a bit.'

Sherlock watched as Molly made her way up the stairs. He needed to think and he needed a whiskey, maybe even two or three. He watched closely as it was served though to make sure it was untampered with.

As he sat down in his chair, alone in one corner of the bar, he sighed heavily and rubbed one hand wearily across his face.

He took a soothing sip of his drink and thought back over the last few hours. He'd been fine, keeping everything buttoned up and under control, until that moment that Molly had broken down in the vicarage. When he'd put his arm around her to comfort her he'd felt an overwhelming rush of emotions and he needed to try and understand them.

He'd felt a...protectiveness of her that he'd never really noticed before but now he came to analyse it it had been there within him for such a long time that he could no longer tell when it had begun. His anger at their recent violation had mostly been on Molly's behalf, anger with himself that he hadn't protected her and kept her safe, that she had been hurt and humiliated because of him.

And underneath it all as ever was his sexual attraction to her, made all the more pressing now he had clear memories of how it had felt to be coupled with her, the feel of her soft skin under his hands, his mouth on hers, the taste and the smell of her.

He let out a frustrated sigh. He needed to try to focus, to stay in control. For Lily, for Molly and for himself. He couldn't let him emotional state distract him from what was important.

 **Ooh looks like Sherlock is starting to struggle with the status quo. How long do we reckon he should hold out? Back soon with a new chapter. In the meantime I need to get back to the sex scene I was just writing….but is it for this fic or another?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Nearly at the end of another school holiday, why do they always go so fast :(. Well, let's cheer ourselves up with another chapter. Publishing a day early because lil gave me hopeful eyes.**

 **Chapter 10**

Sherlock took another drink of his whiskey and shifted in his seat. How in gods name was he going to cope with another night of Molly in his bed? He felt a sudden, unexpected rush of lust through his body settling in his groin at the memory of her asleep in his bed, her hair spread across the pillow and tickling his shoulder. He'd been so badly tempted to wake her up in an ungentlemanly way. It had took him everything to get out of that bed and head to the bathroom for a cold shower.

And now...now she was waiting for him upstairs again.

He went and ordered another drink from the bar, this was a triple whiskey problem. He knew absolutely that if he got in that bed he would be too tempted to make advances towards her and given her upset earlier he felt that that option was unacceptable. She might have accepted advances from him a week ago but not now, everything had been ruined for them since that night. She'd never want to be with him again; he had no doubts that it would just raise bad memories for her.

He could go and sleep in her room instead. That solution sounded the best but left him feeling uncomfortable. Molly was sleeping in his room because HE made her feel safe and secure not the room. It would just be cruel to desert her, she so rarely asked for anything from him he should at least be able to give her the feeling of safety.

In the end he went with the only option left to him. He would spend the night in the room but not in the bed.

He went up, changed in the small bathroom and settled himself in the armchair in the corner of the room. She appeared to be asleep so he didn't say anything just steepled his hands and went into his mind palace. Now he'd solved the initial problem of Molly he was able to concentrate on the events of that day and the information he wanted to add to the case file in his head. He felt a picture starting to form but it was still shadowy, he was missing something vital and couldn't quite pin it down.

About an hour later he came back round and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He must have disturbed Molly because she rolled over and felt for him in the bed, her eyes opening when she realised he wasn't there. It didn't take her long to spot him in the corner, lit by a small and fairly ineffectual lamp at the side of the armchair. He smiled, hoping to relax her and whispered, 'Don't mind me, I'll sleep here tonight.'

She sat up in the bed and looked over at him drowsily, 'don't be ridiculous, you can't sleep in a chair...not all night.'

Sherlock found himself swallowing nervously at the sight of her in his bed, her hair tumbling about her shoulders and over the thin straps of her silky nightdress. The lamplight and the shadows made her look ethereal and even more beautiful than normal. He couldn't help the way he felt about her especially not since the other night. His mind was suddenly working overtime again trying unsuccessfully to push away the images of her as they'd had sex but it was as though he were becoming obsessed.

He tried to say something but the room felt hot and oppressive. He saw her throw back the covers and stand up. The nightdress accentuated her petite form and his mouth felt suddenly dry at the sight of her nipples pushing on the thin fabric. He needed to try to regain his control but it felt as though it was spiralling.

'Sherlock, is everything alright? You look flushed.'

'I...please Molly. I'm fine, just...just go back to bed.' He wanted to shift in his seat to try to alleviate in some way the frustration he felt. He was hard and ready for her but he couldn't let her know that, he didn't want her to feel any more vulnerable and violated than she already did.

He brushed a hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to get his erratic breathing under control. When he opened his eyes she was closer and he could see that she knew, knew how much she was affecting him.

'I'm sorry Molly, it's just physical, I...I'm trying to delete that night but..' He stopped in surprise as she slid one knee into the chair at the side of him before straddling him.

'Maybe we don't need to delete it. Maybe we need to replace it with better memories.'

He didn't recall moving his hands but found they were holding her hips tightly feeling her pressing down on him. It was so painfully perfect he didn't dare move. 'We shouldn't...' It came out as barely a whisper and Sherlock knew his body was giving lie to his words.

'Why not? Do you want me?' She rocked against him making him gasp and tighten his grip. She asked again, more urgently, 'do you want me?'

'Yes...goddamnit...yes, I do.' He let his hands slide up from her hips until they were in her hair and he pulled her to him for a kiss. It started slow and tentatively before growing in intensity. He felt an almost animalistic desire for her and worried momentarily that they were still being affected in some way by the drugs from the other night but he knew that couldn't be. This was just them, together, with no other interference.

He felt her pressing up against him, the thin material of her nightdress again doing little to protect her modesty. He could feel her breasts against his chest, the heat of her sex against his groin. Her hands were in his hair twisting and pulling in a way that had him growling into her mouth wanting to devour every part of her. He thrust against her desperate for some friction to ease his aching cock and when he felt her reach down between them he eagerly helped her to release him from the confines of his pyjamas.

There was a moment of stillness where he stared into her warm, brown eyes, seeing his own lust reflected back in them and then slowly she slid her welcome heat down onto him.

He pushed her straps off her shoulders until her nightdress pooled at her waist leaving her chest exposed to him, as she rocked against him eliciting moans and gasps from both of them, he bent his head to her breast, sucking in her nipple as he palmed the other; his thumb circling and flicking over her, feeling her harden beneath his tongue and his touch.

It wasn't long before he felt her muscles clench around him, heard her crying out his name as her orgasm washed over her but he needed more.

In a moment he picked her up and within a couple of strides they fell onto the bed this time with him on top of her. He bent to kiss her before thrusting into her, needing to control the pace to reach his own release. He didn't just want to have sex with her, he wanted to consume her. It was as though the frustrations of the last few years and the events of the last couple of days had built him up to a desperate peak of need. But Molly was right there with him, her hands on his backside urging him on, her nails clawing at his back, her mouth on his neck.

He could hear himself repeating her name, 'oh God...Molly...I want you...I need you...need to feel you...God.'

His muscles were straining and protesting but he was so close, so near...then he felt her come for a second time, felt her muscles tighten and draw his own much needed orgasm from him. With a last desperate thrust he buried himself as far into her as he could, feeling his release pulsing into her.

He sagged against her heavily, gasping for breath and trying to make sense of the feelings rushing through him. He was little versed in understanding his own emotions but he felt overwhelmed, he wanted to hold her, to keep her safe. She was his and he felt a rush of possessiveness and angry jealousy wash over him.

As he came back to himself he could feel her fingers soothingly rubbing his back, light kisses being placed on his neck and shoulder. He needed to move to take his weight off her but it felt as though his body wasn't working, he felt a crippling tiredness coupled with a peacefulness that he couldn't quite recall feeling before.

In the end he rolled to one side keeping his arm over her waist and his legs tangled with hers. She turned her head to him and he leant forward to kiss her before sleep overtook him. The last thing he remembered was feeling her tugging a cover over them both.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When Molly awoke the next morning it took her a moment to realise where she was and what had taken place. She was still tangled up with Sherlock who was fast asleep. It was only early morning with just the hints of daylight starting to break through the curtains.

Molly twisted her head a little so she could look at Sherlock as he slept; something she'd never been able to do before. On the last couple of occasions when they'd shared a bed he'd always been the first one awake.

He was, if anything, more beautiful asleep than awake but then she thought maybe it was because she felt more able to look at him. She never really stared at him awake, mainly because it was just something you didn't do but also because she knew she'd never get away with looking at him sneakily like she might have tried if he'd been anyone other than the most observant person on the planet.

She could see the light and shade of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrow, each individual hair making up the morning stubble in his face. She bit her lip wanting to reach out and trace his features with her finger but wondering what, if anything, the two of them were now. There had been no declarations made, no promises, no mention of feelings. Molly had surprised herself with how forward she had been with him, she'd felt incredibly horny when she'd awoken and her frustration along with the grogginess of sleep had made her act on instinct when she'd seen how aroused he was. That in itself had been surprising let alone the fact that he had reciprocated and not turned her away.

But none of that meant that his views on relationships had changed in any way, maybe they had just been replacing those memories as she had said and when he awoke that would be it, back to being friends. Molly knew exactly how she would feel about that; crushed.

He seemed to stir under the weight of her gaze; his head turning to face hers as he shifted over onto his side more. Gradually he opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he started to focus on Molly lying in his arms. Now was the moment of truth.

 **Any ideas as to what his reaction will be? Let me know and I'll be back soon with another update.**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, bit of a mixed bag of a chapter here. We need to tackle the fallout from the night before and then it's time to up the ante on the mystery side. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 11**

'Molly...' He sounded almost a little surprised to see her there, a questioning tone in his voice and a confused frown flickering across his face.

She didn't move, not sure what to do or say. All she really wanted to do was kiss him, to feel him moving against her and inside her once more. All the lust she'd felt the previous evening seemed to come flooding back and it was all she could do not to press herself against him. But she held back not quite sure how Sherlock would view the events of the night before in the cold light of day.

It seemed though that Sherlock didn't have any such reservations as he stretched and yawned before pulling Molly back towards him for a kiss.

She heard and felt him hum with approval as the kiss developed feeling him move over her body, his already hard, morning erection pressing against her hip. She found herself responding, naturally opening up for him, her hands sliding up the length of his naked back. She couldn't quite remember them undressing the night before but they were definitely both naked now.

Before he could enter her he gripped her hips and suddenly rolled them both so that Molly was on top. She let out a short yelp of shock before looking down at his smirking face. He soon moved his hand to cup her breast and lift his face towards it. Molly moaned loudly as he bit down on her nipple before rolling his tongue around it.

She rocked herself against him using his cock to stimulate her, he felt so hard and ready for her. She didn't need to say anything or ask his permission she just leant forward and positioned him hearing him utter a deep groan as she stroked him with her hand before sliding down onto him. She held still for a moment letting herself adjust to him being inside her once more; her mind trying to keep up with her body. This was really happening...again!

She started to rock against him and as he continued to toy and play with her breasts with his mouth and hand; his other hand was on her lower back pressing her onto him, guiding her movements.

She could feel her orgasm starting to build, the feeling of him starting to overwhelm her. She knew she was muttering his name, telling him how good he felt, how big. He broke off from her breast and used his hand to pull her too him for another kiss, his tongue immediately invading her mouth as their movements became more and more frenetic. Molly couldn't think of anything other than Sherlock and the fact that it was him she was with; they were together and it was perfect. She was teetering on the edge desperate to come before he did, feeling his movements starting to take over from her own.

'God, Molly, you feel so good, I need you to come for me. Oh God...' The sound of his voice tipped her over and she climaxed knowing she was calling out his name and not able to stop. She felt him give a final thrust and shudder as he came; holding onto her so hard she knew she might bruise but not caring, almost wanting it as proof of this happening.

She collapsed onto his chest her head tucked between his neck and his shoulder her lips kissing what skin she could reach. 'Mmmm, God Molly you can wake me up like that anytime you want!' She could feel his hands stroking her back and holding her and Molly didn't want this moment to ever end, but end it must. She slid off his lap and looked round to find a dressing gown or towel so she could go to the bathroom. Sherlock leant up on his elbow watching her moving around the room.

'Hey, just wait a minute.'

Molly pulled the dressing gown round her before looking back round trying not to notice the fact that he was naked but knowing she was blushing anyway. He gazed at her for a moment, 'listen...'

Molly's heart sank in that moment at that one serious sounding word, 'umm it's OK. We can talk later, I really need a shower. I'll...I'll see you downstairs for breakfast yeah?' With that she stood up and left the room before he could stop her.

She had no desire to go through an it's not you it's me speech, she'd been through enough in her life and delivered a couple. She couldn't face it right now especially not from Sherlock.

She stood under the water of the shower and knew she was crying. Being with him had felt so right, so perfect. Was it better to have slept with him and have it end or would she have felt better if she'd never known how good it could be? She was so caught up in her own emotions that she didn't notice the bathroom door being unlocked or the person entering.

It was only when Sherlock opened the shower door and climbed in next to her that she almost jumped out of her skin. 'What on earth are you doing?' She asked as she looked up at him in shock.

He pushed his wet hair off his face before cupping hers with both his hands. 'You didn't let me finish. Why did you run away like that?'

'I...umm...I just didn't want to go through a break up speech.'

'Molly, we'd just had sex, I'd just told you I didn't mind waking up like that more often. What on earth made you think I was breaking up with you? And does that mean we're what...going out now?' He glanced to the side grimacing a little, 'I'm not sure I like the sound of that, being a boyfriend sounds so juvenile, how about partner...or lover? Yes that's better.'

Molly was struggling to keep up but one thing seemed certain he didn't seem to be wanting to end things.

'Listen...I want to be honest with you Molly. I don't think I can offer you love, I'm not sure that's something I'm even capable of; but that being said, I do want to be with you, I think we're good together. I find I enjoy having sex with you and I already know I can spend time with you satisfactorily. I can offer you sex and companionship. Is that enough?'

Molly bit her lip looking up into his earnest face, watching the water from the shower dripping down the sides of his face. Was it enough? What alternative did she even have? She couldn't walk away and even if she did she didn't want anyone else. And who knows what the future might bring, she'd ventured into enough relationships previously before there was any love involved, maybe she could love enough for the two of them.

She smiled and saw the reciprocal relief in his eyes as he realised what her answer would be. She put her hands over his on her face, 'I'm willing to give it a go, after all I think you may have just ruined me for any other men.' He smiled in return and bent his head to kiss her.

Molly knew that they had kissed before but somehow this felt like the first time. No matter what he had just said this kiss felt loving rather than passionate. His lips were soft and pliant against hers, his hands sliding down to her back to hold her against him, hers around his neck playing with the wet strands of his hair. It seemed to last for ages until they both broke apart breathing heavily and smiling almost shyly at each other.

Sherlock motioned for her to turn around and then proceeded to wash her hair, listening to Molly humming with satisfaction as he massaged her scalp before repeating with the conditioner. He loved feeling the weight of it in his hands the smell of her all around him. He wanted to have sex with her again but he also knew that they needed to concentrate on the case. He couldn't afford to let this become a complication in his life, now he had a taste of a relationship he wanted to make it work for both of them.

Eventually they dried off and made it downstairs to breakfast. The landlady, Meredith raising an eyebrow at catching them holding hands and smiling as they talked.

As they ate Sherlock glanced at his watch, 'hurry up Molly. We need to be at church in ten minutes.'

Molly almost choked on her toast, 'I'm sorry what?'

'Church Molly, come on.' He stood up and looked at her expectantly.

Molly slid out from her seat, grabbing a last drink of tea before following him out of the pub, 'so why are we going to church?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

'No, not to me. I didn't even know you were religious. Do you do this every week?'

Sherlock stopped so suddenly Molly almost ran into the back of him, 'no of course I'm not religious Molly,' he retorted with exasperation, 'what on earth gave you that impression? Our biggest link in this case is the vicar and today is Sunday, so if we want to see him church is the place to be, he can't escape us there. Come on, the service starts at ten.'

By the time they arrived they could already hear singing. An elderly male verger showed them in, welcoming them to their first service. Sherlock glanced at the front and frowned, he turned to the verger before he left them and whispered, 'is Reverend Tucker not officiating today?'

'No, there's no sign of him at the vicarage. We're not sure where he is. I opened up and Mrs May, the lay reader has stepped in to take over the service.'

Sherlock turned to the front but ignored Molly as she offered to share her hymn book with him. He sat when they all sat and stood when they stood but Molly could tell he wasn't really paying any attention to the service. She saw him looking around at the congregation. Molly recognised Lord Sladen at the front as well as Melissa Bennett who was stood next to an older man who Molly assumed was her husband, Hugh. She looked thinner than Molly remembered and less polished. The loss of her daughter was obviously affecting her deeply. There were a few others that she couldn't name but whom she recognised from the pub over the last few days.

As the service drew to a close Sherlock stood and made his way past her to talk to the verger. Molly followed him over and caught the end of the conversation.

'I'm concerned that something untoward has happened to Rev Tucker, if you have access to the vicarage we need to check it now to make sure he's OK.'

'Oh, well. I'm not sure that's right. I mean, it's his home.'

'And what if he's ill; collapsed or had a heart attack? You've already said yourself that it's not like him to miss a service without telling anyone or making provisions for cover. My colleague here is a doctor.'

Molly smiled and it obviously went some way to reassure the old man that they weren't up to anything dodgy because he nodded his head briefly and told them to wait outside the vicarage whilst he went to fetch the spare set of keys.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Sherlock huffed impatiently, repeatedly looking up at the house as though it's visage might change under his gaze. The verger soon came back and unlocked the front door, calling out as they went in, 'Vicar, vicar. It's just me Ken I'm just wantin' to make sure you're alright.'

Sherlock brushed past him and after briefly checking each room on the ground floor ran up the stairs two at a time.

'Oy, don't you go snoopin' it ain't right.' Ken followed him up the stairs. He and Molly got to the top just as Sherlock came out of the main bedroom, 'his bed's not been slept in...something's not right.' As he looked around his gaze alighted on a small chain hanging down from the loft hatch. He glanced at the floor beneath it crouching and touching some dust or dirt on the floor. He stood and looked back up and without another word he tugged the chain releasing the hatch and the folding ladder that went with it.

As soon as the passage to the attic opened Molly smelt it. That oh so familiar smell. She caught Sherlock's eye and they both nodded knowing exactly what they were going to find when they ascended the stairs.

Molly turned to the old man, 'I think you should stay down here. Call the police and an ambulance.'

 **Alright, let's just get one thing straight because I could hear some of you huffing in disgust at Sherlock's less than loving declaration. Sherlock is an idiot. Of course he is in love with Molly he just doesn't realise it yet. Be patient, he will get there I promise.**

 **Oh and thank you for all your reviews, please send more :).**


	12. Chapter 12

**Just to clarify, after my last chapter, when I mentioned the end of the school holidays I mean my kids going back to school not me...unfortunately I'm a little too old for that :).**

 **Chapter 12**

As Molly followed Sherlock up the small loft ladder she was completely unprepared for the sight she was about to see. The sadly recognisable smell of death meant she knew there was a body up there but she had never seen one in such unusual circumstances.

The attic seemed to run for most of the length of the house although the eaves sloped sharply meaning that Sherlock could only stand upright in small portions of the space. He moved forwards slowly with his arm held out to warn Molly not to go past him.

Most of the sides of the room were filled with boxes and bags, Molly could see Christmas tinsel spilling out of one box and 'winter duvets' written on another. One space however was completely clear. In the centre of the attic was a space about twelve feet in diameter. In it, painted on the floor with what looked like red paint, was a five point star. The word pentacle floated through Molly's mind and seemed to be borne out by the rest of the scene. The point of each star had a burnt out, white candle and the valley's seemed to have silver bowls filled with a clear liquid, possibly even water.

Around the outside of the star was a circle made up of a white powder although one part was broken and the powder had blown across the star. There were also various symbols painted in white and red between the star and the circle. They looked, to Molly's inexperienced eye, like astrological symbols. As Molly took it all in she felt a strange sensation ripple up her spine, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She kept glancing back at the gaping hole down to the main body of the house as though she expected to see something rising up through it.

The place felt wrong, evil somehow and it certainly wasn't helped by the body of the very dead Rev Tucker lying with his arms and legs stretched out like a grotesque Vitruvian Man; one hand holding a cross so tightly that blood had trickled down across his wrist. His hair was unkempt and he looked as though he hadn't shaved since their last meeting just a couple of days ago. His mouth was open in what looked like a scream with dried spittle and saliva on his chin.

It was his eyes that chilled Molly the most though. They were open; staring and bloodshot. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days and maybe he hadn't. There was an expression of pure terror in them and if Molly hadn't been a woman of science, a pathologist, she would have speculated that he had died of fright.

Sherlock was talking as he circled around the space occasionally using his phone to photograph a symbol or look something up. Once he'd finished with his photos he asked Molly to examine the body.

As she stepped into the circle and then the star she found herself feeling such a heavy sense of dread that it was all she could do not to just turn and run. It was only her desire to not let Sherlock down or let him see her fear that kept her focused and moving forward. She bent and examined the body testing the muscles for rigor mortis. She had to swallow heavily before she could speak to inform Sherlock that he had been dead for between eight and twelve hours, 'most of the muscles are now in rigor but not all so definitely not more than twelve.

As she stood back up and moved away the heaviness lifted a little but didn't go completely. She found herself feeling hot and claustrophobic with sweat starting to prickle down her back. Sherlock was talking and she forced herself to concentrate on his voice to distract herself.

'He was frightened, we already knew that, but what turned that fear into this. He seems to have tried to set up some kind of astral defence system, the pentacle, the candles, holy water and cabalic symbols. This is someone deeply entrenched in satanic rituals. Whatever was going on here he believed it and he believed he was no longer safe. Maybe he was having second thoughts, maybe he was going to tell us something and he knew the consequences.'

He touched his finger to the white powder and tasted it before Molly could stop him, 'Salt, another symbol of protection from demonic forces. This gap here though shows that he was disturbed, something or someone came to him and disturbed his protection, broke the 'spell'.' He air quoted as he moved around the space, 'I suspect you'll find he died of a massive heart attack Molly. The brain is an amazing thing but it can work against us sometimes.'

Molly frowned at Sherlock from the other side of the circle, 'so what, you think he actually did die of fright? That's ridiculous.'

'Is it Molly? You know the effects of stress on the heart. 'Broken Heart syndrome' is a recognised medical occurrence, is it so much of a leap that this man, who had been suffering from chronic stress and fear for a long time given the signs I saw when we met him, then went through an intense period of further excessive stress and fear culminating in something unknown which was such a jolt to his system it triggered a heart attack. Check the cortisol levels and I think you'll find they are excessively high pointing to long term stress.'

'Hang on, you keep saying I should do the autopsy but I'm completely out of area here. I have no authority or remit to do the autopsy.'

Sherlock just gave a 'pfft' noise as he bent to examine the dead man's hand with his magnifying glass, 'I expect there will also be traces of the same hallucinogen that we were given, though I'm not sure yet how he would have ingested it.'

He stood up and walked around the loft checking the small windows set into the roof and the marks around the loft hatch. 'Someone knew he was here, someone came to him and effectively scared him to death but how. I think the why is obvious but...'

'Hang on, it isn't obvious to me.'

Sherlock turned to her and sighed in exasperation but Molly just folded her arms across her chest and raised in eyebrow. Concentrating all her energies on Sherlock seemed to be helping to dampen down her fear.

'For whatever reason he'd become the weakest link, if he had talked he would have been able to tell us everything, who the ring leader is, where Lily is being kept hidden, everything. He had to be silenced.'

'They had to have used the loft hatch; no other entry point has been disturbed. Who knows what theatricals they could have used to cause fear, it's easily done using sound effects, smoke and mirrors.' He sniffed suddenly two or three times. Molly made her way over, 'what is it?'

'Faint traces of sulphur, the smell is quite unique. It's also associated with satanic power and the raising of demons.'

Once again Molly had that strange sensation of being watched, she swallowed with difficulty feeling all the terror she'd been ignoring swell up in her chest, blocking her throat, 'it's not real though is it, any of it?'

Sherlock didn't seem to notice anything unusual as he carried on poking through the boxes looking for any evidence. He shrugged, 'who knows Molly? "There are more things in heaven and earth Horatio than are dreamt of in your philosophy"'

She tried to smile, 'you know your Hamlet! I thought you would have deleted that kind of information.'

'You'd be surprised Molly how much a good working knowledge of the classics is needed in crime fighting. Now why haven't we heard any sign of the police or ambulances?'

He turned and rapidly descended out of the loft leaving Molly alone with the body. She felt a sudden shuddering terror grip her, which had nothing to do with the dead body lying less than ten feet from her. She was used to being with the dead. In fact she often preferred their company to being with the living, they were so much easier and less complicated. You couldn't be a pathologist and be squeamish but there was something about this place; this house, this village that had her second guessing her beliefs in science.

Within seconds she was following Sherlock out of the loft and down the stairs. She found him at the front door looking up and down the street with a frown on his face. He only noticed her when she clutched at his arm needing to connect with him to escape the horrible, prickling sensation of terror that seemed to have seeped through her system.

It was when he glanced down at her that he finally seemed to notice that something was wrong. He turned to face her holding onto the tops of her arms as he stared intently into her eyes, 'Molly, are you feeling alright?'

Molly's paranoia spiked again, 'why? What's wrong?'

'Your eyes, the pupils are pin pricks, it's as though you've been drugged. Tell me how you feel.'

Her hands gripped his forearms through his coat, 'scared, I feel scared.' She could feel the tears springing into her eyes and it was almost a relief to let it out. The feelings that had been building from the moment they had stepped into the loft.

'Come outside and get some fresh air, the hallucinogen must be airborne in the attic somehow.'

He sat Molly down on the low stone wall outside the vicarage and as she took big gulps of air she had to admit she was starting to feel a little better, 'but why aren't you affected?'

He turned from the phone he was tapping away on, 'higher, long term resistance to drugs, concentration and focus on the scene...' He put the phone to his ear, 'yes, police and ambulance please, there's been a death...'

He gave the details of the vicarage before pocketing his phone and making his way over to sit next to Molly. He tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes again. 'There, feeling better. I suspect most of it had worn off, you just got the tail ends of it. Whoever was after Tucker must have used it to ramp up his fear levels.'

It was then that Molly remembered the verger. 'Ken, where did he go?'

Sherlock shook his head, 'not sure. I'm suspecting he knows enough about what's going on in this village to not want to be involved. He's proverbially scarpered.'

Sherlock was still holding Molly's chin and as the conversation ceased there was a moment where they were just looking at each other. Molly felt the fear start to mellow and soften. She saw Sherlock's pupils dilating as he looked at her and felt her heart flip over suddenly as the atmosphere changed. He slowly lowered his face to hers until their eyes closed and their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss that held the promise of things to come.

Molly didn't want it to end but the sound of sirens in the distance brought them back to the real world. Sherlock smirked as he moved his hand from her face, 'feeling better now Doctor Hooper, no more worries about things that go bump in the night.'

She smiled back, 'no if anything I'm hoping for a bit of bump and maybe some grind in the night, Mister Holmes.' She was amused to see a slight blush appear on his cheeks before he stood to greet the emergency services.

Sherlock got his own way in the end and a call from Mycroft to the local pathology unit had Molly back in a lab coat and conducting the autopsy on the vicar. Sherlock was right, he had died from a massive heart attack and there were both high levels of cortisol in his system as well as clear indications of the mind altering drugs. However, convincing the police that this was more than a natural death was a different matter.

The initial police officers attending the scene were very open to the idea of treating it as a crime scene but as soon as a more senior officer arrived the whole thing started to get shut down. 'This is just a case of a death due to natural causes, Mister Holmes. I think you're just seeing what you want to see.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and with his hands behind his back rose up to his full height, 'and how long have you known the deceased?'

'Not that it's any business of yours but most of my life and it's long been known that he has heart problems.'

'And I'm sure you know the meaning of the symbols surrounding the body. Am I right?'

At this the officer flushed an angry red and took a step closer to Sherlock facing him down, 'if you are trying to imply something you can forget it. You might be able to get Scotland Yard to do your bidding but you are nothing here...a nobody. I can't force you to leave this village but I can tell you to stay out of any business that isn't your own and that includes this investigation, so, Mister Holmes, you...can bloody well just piss off.'

 **I'd love to know your opinion about this chapter and the death. My inspiration for this whole fic came from the Dennis Wheatley books in particular To The Devil A Daughter. I hope I've done it justice.**

 **Oh and I couldn't resist the Hamlet quote, would love to see Ben's performance in that again, I'd buy the DVD in a heartbeat if they ever deigned to sell it to us.**


	13. Chapter 13

**You've all gone quite, hope that means you are still reading and enjoying. What are your current thoughts on the ring leader? Still got a way to go but I hope I get the balance of mystery vs romance right for you all.**

 **Chapter 13**

It was late by the time they got back to the bar; Molly was almost dead on her feet, yawning even as Sherlock ordered them both a nightcap. He still wanted to interrogate her about some of the details of the autopsy as he hadn't been there whilst she'd conducted it. He also told her about his run in with the local police.

'I'm fairly convinced that the Inspector is part of the cabal. He was very keen to shut things down, he even went as far as deleting the photographs of the symbols from the police cameras though I still have my own copies. He also made a call soon after he arrived and whilst I didn't hear what he said his actions told me he was conferring with someone who was telling him what to do, and I doubt that was another police officer. It would make sense to have someone fairly senior in the police involved.'

Molly just hummed in response as she sipped her Baileys and Sherlock looked down at her sitting next to him, his face softening. 'Come on, let's get you to bed. You've got about as much stamina as John.'

'Why, do you often wake him up first thing for sex?' Quipped Molly as she yawned once more.

'I used to but he rejected me once Mary came on the scene.' He laughed at Molly's stunned expression, 'joke Molly. You really are tired aren't you to fall for that one.'

He followed her up to what was now their room, Molly having pretty much abandoned her larger room apart from showering and storing her clothes.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep with her head on Sherlock's chest and his arm wrapped around her. He, meanwhile, lay in the dark listening to her breathing and thinking through the events of the last day or so. He was surprised by how natural it all felt with Molly, how easy the transition appeared to be from friends to lovers. She was already such a big part of his life that it now seemed madness that he hadn't tried this earlier.

He was getting more and more worried about this case though. There was clear evidence that whoever was running things had no qualms about killing someone, Rev. Tucker's death proved that. How far would they go to keep their secret hidden and what did this mean for Lily? He felt as though he were missing something obvious, as though he already knew the ring leader but hadn't recognised them for whatever reason. He needed to revisit the Bennett's, talk to Melissa again, after all that's where this had all started. Once that was settled he closed his eyes and let the sound of Molly's breathing lull him into sleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The next morning it was very much Sherlock who awoke Molly. She came too to find him nuzzling her neck with one hand on her breast and his erection pressed into her backside. She hummed in approval as she stretched; taking the opportunity to press herself against his hardness hearing him groaning delightfully in response.

His hand left her breast momentarily until he slid it back into place but this time under her nightdress so he was touching her bare flesh. Molly felt heat flooding to her core and she ground herself back against him aching to feel his hand or more on her clit. He pinched on her nipple loving how responsive she was to him.

Gradually he turned her to him so he could lean in and capture her lips in a kiss. So what that they both had morning breath, he didn't give a damn, he just wanted her, needed her.

He could feel her pressing herself against him, squirming under him and it just made him feel even more turned on. His erection was pulsing and he knew he was rutting against her desperate for some kind of friction.

He could smell her arousal and it made his mouth water. He made quick work of removing her clothes and when she was lay naked in front of him, all shaded in greys in the early morning light he knelt between her open legs before bending to smell her more deeply.

As he licked and tasted her the first time he heard her groan and felt her hands thread into his hair pulling on his follicles in a way that made his head spin with desire. He had never before realised how sensitive his hair was. It took all his will power to stay where he was and continue his teasing rather than just take her for his own pleasure alone. He wanted her with him though, wanted her to derive as much enjoyment as he did.

It didn't take him long to deduce how she preferred oral sex, how she got more turned on by him entering her with his tongue. Within only a few short minutes he was rewarded with her first orgasm and her pulling on his hair and calling his name. By the time he entered her with his erection he knew he was already leaking and close to his own release. He hadn't realised until this moment how much he had missed sex and he had never known how good it could be when there was an emotional connection, and Molly was the right person for him, without a doubt.

As he pressed into her he could feel his body starting to let go, the relief at finally being able to relieve his aching need for her. She moved with him, her hands on his back and sliding down to his backside pulling him into her harder and further, telling him with every breath and sigh that she was with him and he wasn't hurting her. He could feel his need and his release starting to build driving him on making him thrust into her harder and deeper. She felt so tight and hot and wet, slick with desire for him. He knew she was close to a second orgasm and so he lifted her knee higher up until he could hit that spot inside her that he knew would cause her to unravel. And unravel she did, she cried out his name mixed with expletives which just took him over the edge with her. He could feel himself give a final deep thrust as his seed released inside her pulsing and rocking as he came down from the natural high.

He collapsed onto her knowing she could take his weight, knowing she relished it, feeling her hands aimlessly drawing patterns on his back as her feet locked over his backside.

It seemed to take them a while before they wanted to separate. Sherlock found a peace in her arms that he so rarely experienced. His mind felt calmer and clearer after sex which was a relief as he didn't want this to be a complication.

After one last slow, drawn out kiss he pulled away and they set about getting ready for the day ahead.

This time Molly showered alone but it was a much happier experience. She could barely keep the grin off her face as she washed her body and hair. She let her fingers slide over the love bite on her breast and the one on her hip biting her lip and reminding herself for the thousandth time that she was having sex, no not just sex, amazing sex with Sherlock Holmes and he wanted to be with her. She ignored the nagging voice which sadly reminded her that he didn't love her.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Sherlock informed Molly of his desire to revisit the Bennett house over breakfast, 'I need to go back to the source, back to the start of this whole event and that is the disappearance of Lily. Someone close to her knew of her plans to lose her virginity that night and that is what triggered her abduction.

Melissa greeted them well enough when they arrived showing them into the spacious front room. She was still looking pale and drawn as she had the day before in church but when Molly saw her again all she could remember was the spike of jealousy that had run through her when Melissa had propositioned Sherlock in front of her in Baker St.

As they sat down side by side on the settee Molly couldn't help herself and she put her hand possessively on Sherlock's knee. She felt rather than saw him glance down at her hand and then at her face and knew she was colouring but she held her smile and kept her eyes on Melissa who was offering them tea or coffee.

'Nothing, thank you. I need you to tell me about all the men in your life and Lily's life. How many have been here to the house or interacted with Lily either here or at school or any other environment. I'm not talking school friends or boys her own age I'm talking men.'

Molly noticed two spots of colour in Melissa's cheeks at the implications of Sherlock's questioning but she seemed to square her shoulders and make her decision before embarking on a very open and honest list of the men she dated both before and after her marriage to her husband.

'And are you aware of the rumours circulating the village about your husband and Meredith the landlady of the local pub?'

'Sherlock!'

He finally turned to Molly gently removing her hand, 'Molly, I need to ask these questions, please don't interrupt unless you have something pertinent to say.'

He turned back to Melissa leaving Molly in a maelstrom of emotions, everything from hurt and humiliated to angry to ashamed that she had acted like the worst kind of girlfriend, the sort he would hate.

Melissa pursed her lips, 'yes, I've heard those rumours and I've also suspected them of being true although I have no evidence and no real desire to find any. You have to understand that this is a marriage of convenience to a certain extent. When I moved here my husband had left me, I was a single parent with little to no money. I don't kid myself that I have any burning desire for a career, I'm no feminist, never aspired to be independent and strong. No, I wanted a husband and preferably a rich one. Hugh fit the bill perfectly. I give him a certain level of respectability, I host dinner parties for his golf buddies, provide him with an appropriate plus one to events in the City. It's a win win. What he does in his own time is his own business, I just ask for discreetness.'

'And where is Hugh now?'

Melissa glanced at her watch, 'he's either still on the golf course finishing his round or he'll be in the club lounge enjoying a whiskey.'

Sherlock stood and said his goodbyes. As he started to walk out with Molly trailing behind Melissa clutched at his arm, 'is there...do you think there's still hope...for Lily?'

The look in Melissa's eyes was almost too painful for Molly to see and she felt sorry that she had been filled with such petty emotions when this woman was clearly desperate and anxious for her only child.

Sherlock softened ever so slightly and smiled, 'yes, yes there is still hope. I will find your daughter.'

Melissa's only response was a slight sob of relief.

 **So, was he right to call Molly out or not? I'm interested to hear your opinions on it as always.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry this chapter took a bit longer to get to you. I meant to post it yesterday but life, work and family got in the way. As ever, thank you for all your ongoing support. I love this fandom!**

 **Chapter 14**

As they left the house and walked away an awkward silence fell over the pair. Sherlock kept a fast pace and Molly had to almost run to catch up until in the end she tugged on his arm forcing him to stop.

'What is it now Molly?' He said frowning at her and sighing impatiently.

Molly bridled at his attitude but tried to keep things calm, 'listen Sherlock, I'm sorry if I was unprofessional in there. I...I shouldn't have questioned what you were asking, but I felt hurt when you spoke to me like that. I expect a little more respect.'

He sighed again and looked off into the distance before his gaze returned to her face. 'I need to be able to do my job how I see fit Molly...but having said that, I apologise for snapping at you. It's just going to take us both a bit of getting used to I suppose.' He turned and starting walking again before giving her a side glance and a smirk, 'and what was with you putting your hand on my knee? Were you marking your territory by any chance Doctor Hooper?'

She gave him a similar look and smile, 'might have been...damn, I'm sorry about that too.'

'Don't be, I liked it.' He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

Molly was still smiling happily to herself when she felt Sherlock tense slightly. She looked up at him quizzically but he was keeping his eyes straight ahead. At the next street he turned left before ducking them into a small alley behind the row of houses. A moment later as a figure went past Sherlock reached out and pulled him in slamming him against the wall.

'Who are you and why are you following us?' He said to the youngster who was grappling at the arm Sherlock had placed across his chest, leaning his weight on him to keep him in place.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry it's just I saw you leaving Lily's house. You're the detective aren't you, the one from London?'

'Yes, still doesn't explain who you are? But I'm suspecting I know, you're the boyfriend, Karl I presume.'

The lad just nodded looking wide eyed and terrified. Sherlock relaxed a little standing back and watching as the kid got his breath back and straightened his clothes. 'So, as to why you are following us, you're obviously scared, you've seen something or know something about Lily's disappearance and you don't know what to do with that information. Am I right?'

'Jesus, they said you did this stuff in the paper but I didn't believe it was true. Yeah, yeah you're right I've seen something but I'm not sure you'll believe me.'

'Try us.'

Karl looked round, 'can we go somewhere else, somewhere more private? I don't want anyone to overhear us. My house isn't far and my mum's at work so it's empty.'

Sherlock made a sweeping gesture with his hand, 'fine, lead the way.' He gave Molly a shrug as the lad passed and they both followed behind.

He was right; he only lived five minutes away so it didn't take long to get there. He lived in a much cheaper looking house than Lily. It looked as though it had once been a workman's cottage; little more than a two-up, two-down. He led the way in and showed them into an untidy front room. Molly moved a few magazines and perched on a chair but Sherlock just leant against a wall watching Karl as he sat himself on the edge of the settee running his hands through his mousy brown hair.

'Right, see. I know what people are saying. They thought me and Lily had run off together and then when I was seen that's changed to them saying I've done something to her or know where she is but I don't. I haven't got a clue where she is and I KNOW she wouldn't have gone off without telling me. We were in a good place; things were progressin' if you get my drift.' He eyed Sherlock mutinously as though daring him to contradict him.

Sherlock just nodded, 'go on.'

'So, after the police had gone it didn't look like anyone cared. I didn't know then that Lily's mum had spoken to you. I...well, I decided to see what I could find out. See, I didn't trust her step-dad. He was always sayin' bad stuff about me, trying to get Lily to end it. So a few days back I'd been watching the house, looking out for Lily when he came out. It was late, I'd been just about to go home, so it was about ten o'clock. I decided to follow him.'

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Molly leant forward and put her hand lightly on his knee, 'it's OK. We've heard weird stuff before, just tell us.'

He smiled shyly back at Molly and the smile lit up his face. Molly could suddenly see what Lily must have seen in him.

'He went down to the edge of the woods down on the south of the village beyond the pub. He seemed to be waiting for someone so I hid and kept watch. Five minutes later he was joined by Meredith Baker from the pub and another man, I didn't recognise him though. The other guy was carrying some kind of bag over his shoulder. Anyhow, they all went off into the woods. I shoulda just gone home, but it was odd, strange and I was bored...so I went after them.'

'They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a clearing. It was easy enough to position myself behind a tree and watch. The two guys went and uncovered something from the bushes and dragged it into the middle. It looked like one of them old-fashioned anvils, you know like you see in blacksmiths.' He looked at Molly who nodded in encouragement.

'Lily's step-dad strips off his shirt so he's naked to the waist and then they get the thing out of the bag and lay it on the anvil. That's when I realised it was alive. It was a cat, howling and screeching it was but they'd tied up its legs so it couldn't get away.'

Molly put her hand across her mouth suddenly not sure if she wanted to hear anymore.

'They all started chanting in some weird language then Hugh lifts up this wicked sharp knife, I saw it glinting in the moonlight then he just slit the cats throat. I thought I was going to be sick but what they did next was even worse. The other guy's got some kind of bowl and he catches the blood. He uses it to make some markings on Mr Bennett's chest and on Meredith's forehead. Then, I swear to God I'm not lying, they took it in turns to drink the blood.'

'And...' Sherlock spoke up, making Molly jump slightly, she'd been so lost in her own horror at what she'd heard.

'And that's it, then I went home.'

'No, no you didn't. What happened then?'

Karl blushed bright red, he cleared his throat and glanced at Molly looking embarrassed.

'Don't mind Molly, she's heard worse, tell us what happened next.'

'They had sex...all of them, together I mean. It's like they were possessed or something I'm not even sure who was shagging who. One of the guys pushed Meredith to the floor and climbed on her, though she wasn't protesting, then the other guy,' he cleared his throat a second time and stared fixedly at the carpet, 'the other guy, well he started wanking over them at first but then he...well, he started shagging the guy who was shagging Meredith.'

'I couldn't watch anymore, it just seemed wrong. All of it just seemed wrong.'

'Have you told anyone else about this?' Sherlock asked standing up and taking a step towards the lad, 'be honest, this is very important. Does anyone else know?'

'Nah, who the hell am I going to tell? Who would even believe me?'

'And this other man, can you describe him at all?'

'No, I never saw his face. He had a hoody on the whole time, he didn't strip like the other for sex, just got his junk out...sorry.' He suddenly said to Molly blushing as he did.

'It's OK. Like Sherlock says, I've heard worse.'

'He was about the same height as Hugh but slimmer, he seemed...yes, he seemed younger. Moved easier.'

Sherlock took out his wallet and fished out some money, 'you need to leave the village now, today and don't tell anyone, not even your mother where you are going. By all means leave her a note so she knows you're safe but say nothing about this.'

Karl and Molly both stood now facing Sherlock. Karl had automatically taken the money but now he looked fearfully back and forth between the two of them, 'but...where the hell am I gonna go? I don't know anyone outside this place.'

Sherlock took out one of his cards and wrote something on the back. 'Go to this address in London. I'll call ahead and let my friend, John Watson, know that you're on your way. He will arrange to keep you safe. You can come back here in a couple of weeks when it's all over.'

Karl nodded but looked so young and vulnerable that Molly couldn't help but wrap him up in a big hug. 'John's nice. You'll be fine...just do what Sherlock says.'

Sherlock had been checking his phone but Molly saw him looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes and an unhappy expression until Molly let Karl go, looked like she wasn't the only one with jealousy issues.

'The next train is in just under an hour, I suggest you start packing. First though, draw me a map showing how to get to this clearing then we'll be off.'

Karl did as Sherlock asked and then they took their leave. As they did none of them noticed they were being observed.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Sherlock looked at his watch and then back at the map as they walked away. The weather had turned and the rain was starting to fall.

'Right, let's see if we can track down Hugh at the golf club. We can check out the clearing later when the weather's likely to be better.' He flicked up the collar of his Belstaff and shoved his hands in his pockets, 'why can't they have more cabs in this place, I haven't walked this much in decades.'

Molly laughed at his disgruntlement, 'come on, walking's good for you.'

'No it's not, walking is boring. It takes us far too long to get anywhere. We should have hired a car.'

'How about if you stop grumbling I'll massage your feet and maybe more than that when we get back to the pub.' She smiled slyly at Sherlock who perked up suddenly, losing the sullen look that had been on his face, 'what else exactly will you massage?'

'I'll tell you on the way, now come on. You can buy me dinner at the golf club as well because I'm starving.'

 **Hope you liked the creepy flashback to the goings on in the woods. I'll be back soon with another update. Oh and sorry if you're a cat lover, my own cat was giving me frosty looks as I wrote this chapter, almost like she knew what I was typing.**


	15. Chapter 15

**You know on a long story like this I run out of things to say at the start of each chapter, plus Ben's been really quite at the moment with his filming of Dr Strange so not a lot to comment on there. I suppose I'll just end with a thank you for your reviews and let you read on**

 **Chapter 15**

It was just before five when they arrived at the golf club. Luckily non-members were allowed in the public bar and restaurant so Sherlock bought them both a drink and booked a table for dinner. Molly was glad she had worn a skirt and top rather than jeans today as the club was definitely up market.

'Is Hugh here?' Molly asked as Sherlock passed her a glass of wine.

'I don't know yet, I've enquired at the bar and they're checking the course register and the member's lounge for me. In the meantime if you want to order some food you should.'

'Are you not eating?'

Sherlock carried on his surveillance of the bar area, 'no. You go ahead, I ate at breakfast.'

Molly huffed but decided against a row over how much food he'd eaten that day. She wasn't his mother. She perused the menu and chose a Salmon Pasta dish.

She had to admit the food at the golf club was exceptional; it came out smelling delicious with smoked salmon pieces in a creamy but not too heavy sauce. She moaned at the first bite and noticed Sherlock's eyes flick back to her momentarily and his Adam's apples bobbed as he swallowed.

She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face at his obvious reaction to her. How had this even happened that the 'cold and uncaring' Sherlock Holmes was suddenly so affected...and by her?

She couldn't resist pushing her shoe off and letting her foot slide up his leg. Again his eyes came back to her his face quizzical; that was until her foot moved against his crotch. Molly was lucky that the table they'd sat at was quite small and quite private otherwise she wouldn't have been able to reach and certainly wouldn't have felt brave enough.

She used her foot to massage him. She could feel him responding to her, his eyes were also widening and he hissed at her to stop. He made no effort to move away though. As she rubbed her foot up the growing length of him she saw his eyes roll back in his head a little and he bit on his lip which caused a spike of lust to rush through her. She was beginning to wonder if she should have started this when there was no immediate possibility of ending it.

They were interrupted however when the steward from the bar came over to advise them that Mr Bennett had now finished his round of golf.

'Mister Holmes, Mr Bennett has said he's happy for you to join him in the member's bar. If you'd like to follow me.'

'Do you want me to come with you?' Molly asked Sherlock not sure if he would after the debacle at Melissa's house,

He frowned, 'yes, of course. Why wouldn't I? Come on.'

Molly picked up her glass and coat and followed them out. Poor Sherlock had had to put his Belstaff back on in order to help mask his current 'condition'.

The first thing that struck Molly about the member's bar was how many more men there were in there than in the public bar. It was a sea of white, middle aged and elderly men and Molly already didn't like the place.

She recognised Hugh Bennett from the church outing and he came forward and greeted Sherlock like an old friend whilst ignoring Molly's very existence. It was only when Sherlock formally introduced her that he gave her any attention and that was only to slowly look her up and down obviously and lewdly assessing her looks and body. Sherlock continued in his introduction, 'Doctor Hooper is not only a renowned pathologist but she's also my partner.' He placed an arm possessively around her waist and the older man immediately stopped his leering.

Hugh bought a round of drinks before asking them what they wanted.

Sherlock didn't pull any punches. 'Where is Lily being kept? Because I will find her and when I do you will be the one charged with grooming her and with her abduction.'

Hugh almost spat his drink out turning an unattractive shade of puce, 'bloody hell man I don't know what you're talking about. The young tart has just run away as I told you when we first met.'

'You see that's what you want people to think but in her diary she talks of conversations with an obviously older man. There is no one else in her life who would have had that level of access and trust. Not only did you arrange for her abduction you targeted her from the moment you met her mother, she is the very reason you married Melissa in the first place.'

Hugh looked around making sure they weren't being overheard, 'you're mad. Absolutely mad and you have no proof. I'm a respected member of this community with some very influential connections back in London. I'm a regular church goer and a governor at the local school dammit.'

'Oh yes, you're very religious. That much is obvious. Do you pray regularly to your 'God'? And what exactly do those prayers entail...because I'm thinking its Virgin and animal sacrifice. As for your credentials and connections your time is nearly up. The fraud charges around your business are being drawn up as we speak and soon there'll be no one out there prepared to speak up for you.'

For a moment Molly thought Hugh was going to hit Sherlock. Sherlock obviously had the same concern as he shifted his stance so he was shielding Molly.

'Get out, just get out. You are no longer welcome here.' He turned to the bar steward and signalled him over but Sherlock just downed his drink and turned towards the door, 'don't worry we can show ourselves out. Enjoy your time here, whilst you still can. Good day.'

He took Molly's elbow and guided them out into the foyer. The reception desk was empty for once and he looked down one of the corridors away from the bar and restaurant.

'What is it? What are you looking for?' Molly whispered looking behind them to make sure they weren't being followed.

He bent to whisper in her ear, 'I'm looking for somewhere to fuck you.' Molly gasped and tried to make her brain work enough to think of something to say. Again he took her elbow and steered her down the corridor checking the door handles to rooms as they went. Finally one opened and he dragged Molly into the darkened room before closing the door behind them.

He spun her round and pushed her against the wall at the side of the door before launching into a bruising kiss. His hands were already pulling her skirt up his thumbs hooking round the sides of her knickers before dragging them down, 'you think you can tease me and get away with it, Molly Hooper.'

His mouth left hers and moved to her neck and throat. All Molly could do was try to repress a groan as he slid two fingers into her wet cunt, her hands tangled into his hair trying to keep herself upright. He moved his thumb to slide in circles around her clit and Molly had never felt so aroused so fast in her life. She was acutely aware that they could be discovered at any moment and it just seemed to make her even more turned on.

She let out a low whine when he removed his hand but the sound of his zip had her squirming in anticipation. He lifted her off the floor and she helped to guide him into her; desperate to feel him filling her. She could hear herself repeating _ohgodohgodohgod_ over and over as he started to move against her.

Once again he captured her mouth, his tongue fighting with hers. Molly had never felt more animalistic, this was all heat and passion. All she cared about was reaching her orgasm and him his. The thought that he was fucking her hard had her wanting to scream his name and keeping quiet was becoming increasingly difficult.

He slid one hand up and under her top and squeezed her breast hard, pinching on her nipple and the sensation was too much for her. She came with a cry that he swallowed with his mouth; capturing her lips once more. A moment later and he joined her, his fingers digging into her buttocks as he gave a final juddering thrust.

Molly was still breathing heavily even as he lowered her back to the floor, his forehead resting on hers their eyes locked together.

Gradually he pulled away, leaning on the wall next to her whist he did his trousers back up, 'God Molly what have you done to me!'

'I don't know, but if that's the result remind me to do it to you more often.' She giggled as she looked sideways at him. She turned towards him, 'you don't regret it do you; us getting together I mean.'

He cupped her face with his thumb sliding across her cheek, 'I thought I'd learnt to live without it. I thought I didn't need sex or a relationship but I'm beginning to see how wrong I was.'

Molly made an exaggerated shocked face, 'sorry, Sherlock Holmes was wrong! Call the papers, front page headline.'

He frowned and pushed off the wall, 'I was trying to be honest. I won't bother next time.'

Molly grinned in the face of his sulking and grabbed his hand pulling him back to her, 'I'm sorry, that was sweet.' She stood on her tiptoes so she could kiss him lightly.

'Did you just call me sweet?'

'I may have...does that mean you have to punish me again?' Molly smiled slyly and he swatted her backside before opening the door. They left the room giggling only to be confronted by a severe looking female member of staff as she walked down the corridor.

'I'm sorry what exactly were you doing in there? These rooms are private. Are you members?' She opened the door and scanned the darkened room as if checking for evidence of a theft.

'We were just looking around, seeing if we wanted to join. I'm not sure it's our thing though. Thanks anyway.' Sherlock grabbed Molly's hand and led her back to the reception area and out of the main doors even as the woman followed tutting and commenting to the newly returned receptionist about being more careful in future.

It was getting dark by the time they left and Sherlock reluctantly concluded that they would have to wait until the following day before they checked the woods. By the time they got back to the pub it was late and Sherlock refused a drink in lieu of needing time in his mind palace. He lay on the bed next to Molly as she read her book and she couldn't help but glance over at him every so often and smile happily to herself about how well things seemed to be going between them.

 **Back soon with the next update. There's a shock in store!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Posting this one for Lil as she's having a nightmare with her computer and needs something to cheer her up.**

 **As chapters go I'm not sure this classes as cheerful but I'll let you guys be the judge of that.**

 **Chapter 16**

The next day was overcast, cold and windy, almost like they were back into winter weather rather than entering spring. Molly wore her chunkiest jumper and jeans and even Sherlock added a scarf to his familiar suit and coat combination.

They set out to the woods straight after breakfast with Sherlock not wanting to waste any more time. The map that Karl had drawn for them proved to be very accurate and easy to follow and within half an hour of entering the woods they broke out of the shade of the trees and into the clearing which was just as the young man had described it apart from one traumatic addition; Karl's dead body.

Molly was used to death, familiar with the horrific and the gruesomeness but it never failed to sadden her. She hoped she would never become so immune to it that she no longer cared. She let out a soft 'oh no' even as Sherlock started to circle the body looking for clues.

There was no need to make any checks to see if he were still alive. Not only had his throat been slit, he had effectively been gutted; his insides exposed to the world, already buzzing with flies and insects. In addition his exposed chest had a crudely drawn inverted cross carved into it along with the numbers 666, which even Molly knew were the mark of the devil. But all she could see was the scared boy who had come to them for help yesterday. She had thought he would be safe, that they had done enough to protect him.

'God, Sherlock, why...why would they do this? And how did they even know? I thought he was in London.'

Sherlock shook his head, 'we must be being followed. I've sensed it a few times and tried to be vigilant but whoever it is is well practiced. Dammit! I should have seen this coming, I should have done more.'

He took his phone out and rang the police giving details of their location. As they waited for them to arrive Sherlock spent some time photographing the site whilst Molly gave the body an initial viewing.

Sherlock spoke as he roamed around the grassy enclosure 'there were obviously a lot of people involved in this killing. The way the grass has been flattened in a wide circle suggests at least ten to fifteen people, double the number to those present at our...' He tailed off not wanting to remind Molly of 'that night'. He continued, 'there is also multiple evidence of sexual activity.'

Molly looked over at him and grimaced, not even wanting to know what it was he had found to convince him of that. As for her own examination the only saving grace that she could see was that Karl had obviously had his throat cut first before any of the other mutilations had taken place. At least he hadn't suffered as much as he could have. It wasn't much of a positive though.

Twenty minutes later they heard the noise of people making their way through to the clearing. Much to Sherlock's chagrin the same police chief was in attendance as had been for the death of Reverend Tucker. He quickly determined that this was some kind of prank gone wrong and when Sherlock tried to intervene he threatened to have his officers arrest both him and Molly if they didn't leave the scene.

'One of my men will come to the pub to interview you both, but if you don't leave and leave now I will arrest you for obstructing the police in their line of duty. So which is it to be?'

Sherlock started to square up to him but Molly could see no good coming of it. Sherlock being arrested would just waste time, time they were fast running out of. She tugged on his arm forcing him to turn away from the officer. 'Leave it Sherlock; this isn't helping Lily, focus on the case. We can call Greg on our way back. Come on...please!'

In the end he turned back to the police officer and poked a finger at him, 'this' he waved his hand at the scene behind him, 'won't be going away. Questions will be asked and will continue to be asked until justice is served and the truth is known.' With that he turned and stalked away with Molly at his side.

They were quiet as they made their way through the woods but as they exited out into the now falling rain Sherlock roared in frustration and turned on his heel in a full circle as he clutched at his hair, 'God I hate this place. I hate the village, the people, even the damn weather, this cult is everywhere, inculcating and infecting everyone and everything.'

As Molly put her arm out to try to placate him he turned on her wild eyed clutching the top of her arms, 'ow, Sherlock you're hurting me.' He loosened his grip ever so slightly but his eyes never left hers even as the rain started to run down his face, damping down his curls. 'Molly, you need to leave and you need to leave now. It isn't safe, not for either of us. I can't...I couldn't bear it if anything were to happen to you.'

Molly put her hands up to his face wiping the rain away from his eyes, 'hey, I'm fine. I'm safe with you I know I am.'

He let her go so suddenly she stumbled a little before regaining her footing, 'no...no you're not. I just put you in danger, just like I put everyone in danger; Karl, John, Mrs Hudson...all of them...and look at how Moriarty dated you just to get to me...do you have any idea how badly that could have gone for you? Maybe I'm being stupid, maybe us being together is a ridiculous idea. It's just going to put an even bigger target on your back than the one that was already there just by being an acquaintance of mine.'

Molly started to feel panic rising in her throat, constricting her chest. He was saying all the things she had been scared he might say ever since they had gotten together.

'No, Sherlock. Don't say that, don't even think it. I don't care what kind of target it makes me I just...I need to be with you. I can't lose you not now...please.'

He turned to her looking calm for the first time since they'd left the woods. He walked over to her and Molly knew she was crying even as the tears mixed with the rain. He put a hand to her face, 'but don't you see Molly. I thought I couldn't love you but I do and that's why we can't be together. That's why I can't see anything happen to you. If keeping you safe means we shouldn't be together then so be it. I would rather have you alive and apart from me, than grasp for short-term happiness and see you dead...like Karl or worse. It's over Molly, it has to be.'

He kissed her forehead and then started to walk away from her ignoring the rain that was now falling heavily. Molly turned around and sobbed, hugging herself and feeling a physical ache opening up in her chest, not able to watch him walk away from her. But then she felt it, she felt the anger starting to rise overtaking the pain and before she knew it she was running after him.

Within a minute she had caught him up; she grabbed his arm and as she turned him to face her she slapped him hard across the face with her right hand. 'How fucking dare you! Who the hell gives you the right to make that decision? I am not some simpering teenager who doesn't understand how love works, or who needs a man to make the "hard decisions" to keep me safe.' She air quoted to coincide with the heavy sarcasm in her voice.

She poked his chest ignoring the shocked look on his face, 'you do not get to play the martyr; to be all sacrificing on my behalf. I love you, Sherlock. And if that means I'm at risk then man up and deal with it and put your energy into protecting me because I am not going anywhere. Do you understand me?'

When he didn't reply within a few moments she raised her voice, 'Well?'

He nodded his head before he tilted it to one side looking at her almost as if he were seeing her in a new light, then he stepped forward and kissed her.

All Molly could do was hold onto him as he unleashed probably one of the most desperate and passionate kisses she had ever had the fortune to receive. It was as if he were pouring all his pent up, repressed emotion into her and she was happy to receive it. She could feel his hands sliding against the wet skin of her face trying to keep his grip on her as she held onto his back not caring about the rain trickling down her hair and neck.

When they broke apart Molly had to catch her breath as he held her to him and she could hear him promising over and over that he'd keep her safe. His intensity was almost frightening. She found herself soothing him, 'hey, it's OK, it's OK, I know you will. We'll be fine.' Eventually she pulled away and took his hand, 'come on I think we need to get warm and dry off.'

Once they were back at the pub they silently made their way into the shower, stripping off their wet clothes as they went, leaving them on the floor to sort out and dry later.

As they stepped under the hot water, enjoying the feel of it as it reheated them, Sherlock restarted the kiss where they'd left off in the rain. It was as though they had both been hurt and needed comfort and intimacy to help them recover. Sherlock, because he had suddenly realised he loved Molly and was terrified by the enormity of it and Molly from the shock and fear of almost losing him, maybe not a physical loss but it would have torn her apart if she'd let him leave as he'd planned to.

It was only as he lifted her against the wall of the shower and started to move within her that her tears of relief started to leak out. 'God, don't ever leave me, please don't ever leave me.' He kissed her neck and shoulder as he coupled with her, relishing the feeling of the heat from both the shower and from being enveloped within her, 'I won't, I promise, I don't think I could even if I wanted too, not now.'

They came soon after holding onto each other and breathing heavily; kissing whatever skin was closest. As he stepped away from her he bent to kiss her lips once more and smiled, 'I love you Molly Hooper. I never thought that was something I would be capable of and I'll be honest it scares me more than jumping off Bart's roof did, but I do.'

She smiled back, 'I think you already know it but I love you too. I always have and I always will.'

Once they were dry and dressed Molly went to get two mugs of tea from downstairs whilst Sherlock got in touch with Greg. Molly had been right time was running out. The next day would be Walpurgis otherwise known as Beltane. Molly had done her research and knew it was the eve of the feast day of Saint Walpurga. She'd been an 8th Century abbess in Germany but the date was now firmly on the occult calendar as the anniversary of the founding of the Church of Satan.

Greg promised to try to come up the next day although he suspected it would be late as he was due in court to testify at the conviction of a murderer that he had for once caught, and proudly so, without Sherlock's assistance. He promised to bring John as well as he could only come up in an unofficial capacity as the case had not been referred to Scotland Yard at all and he still had no jurisdiction.

Given his desperation Sherlock spent most of the rest of the day in his mind palace which he found to be much aided by putting his head in Molly's lap and having her play with his hair as she read her book.

 **So, to those familiar with Twilight's New Moon you will have recognised the scene where Edward leaves Bella. I always hated it; hated how weak it made her and powerless so this was my kick back against that...me re-writing how it should have been (though I understand it would have made for a very short book).**

 **So, was it a cheery chapter for Lil or just angsty? You tell me.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you to all of you who review or follow or favourite. I am forever grateful for your support and enthusiasm. I know I write for my own fulfilment but it's nice to realise I'm not posting into a void. And to all those with me in Britain it's a glorious day and I'm thinking it might just be Spring...yay.**

 **Chapter 17**

Sherlock didn't sleep much that night. He had spent the evening planning who he needed to see and any other leads he could follow up to try to find Lily before night fell and the ceremony began. At least with such a large ceremony to prepare for there were a few 'rats' he could check up on to see where they were and what they were doing.

As he lay in the dark with Molly asleep at the side of him, her arm flung over his chest and her breath on his shoulder he thought back to that moment as they left the forest when he had almost walked away from her.

He had to admit that it had been a shock to see Karl's body. He had assumed he had taken the train and hadn't given it another thought. It had been remiss if him to not follow up with John to see whether he had arrived. That along with the excessive force used on the body and his growing realisation of his feelings for Molly had combined in his outburst. He had suddenly felt just like he had that day at Barts; as though he were stepping off the ledge into thin air, but this time there was nothing to break his fall.

The thought of something happening to Molly made his chest tighten and his heart beat faster. He had been afraid for John before, like the time he'd been left in the bonfire by Magnussen but it paled against something happening to Molly. For that moment, with the rain mirroring his soul, it had seemed easier and less painful to walk away. But he had underestimated the fire burning within his Molly. He should have known, after all he'd been on the receiving end of it more than once before; the Christmas party where she'd called him out for his scathing comments and the day he'd tested positive for drugs.

He smiled to himself in the dark, yes he hadn't considered Molly's part in his selfish decision. And she'd been right to call him on it. Lying here, thinking more objectively, he could never have left her, not now. He couldn't have stood by and watched her getting on with her life, maybe meeting someone else...his hands fisted at the mere thought of his Molly with another man. No, there were precautions they would have to take. On the positive front she would need to move into Baker St. He would need to broach the subject with her soon. He had to admit he liked the idea of having her around and not just for the sex. If he were honest he had been lonely since John had moved out. The negative was that it would mean him accepting the higher security detail from Mycroft. His brother had been trying to force it on him ever since he'd returned from his non-existent exile but now there was a reason for him to accept it.

He slid down a little in the bed and Molly rolled over in her sleep. He felt the loss of her arm around him and curled himself around her smaller form; his hand wrapped around her waist holding her too him. He kissed her head before giving himself over to sleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

By the time Molly awoke Sherlock was already gone. He'd left her a note stating that he'd gone to check out a couple of possible locations for the tunnel system and he'd be back around lunchtime. He also asked her to talk to Meredith. She was the one person they knew was involved that they hadn't yet spoken too and Sherlock thought Molly appealing to her maternal instincts might help. Other than that his only other comment was a strict instruction for her to not leave the pub and to stay with others as much as possible.

Molly made her way through to her own bedroom and started to dress. It was another dismal day and she had to use the main light in the room as there was little light coming in from outside. As she took off her nightshirt and put on her underwear the bulb buzzed and flickered causing her to look up at it in concern. It happened again. This time she turned off the main light and used the bedside lamp instead. It was all fine for five minutes but as she bent to out on her boots it went out with a sudden click leaving the room in semi-darkness.

'Damn', she leant forward and clicked it on and off. She was about to turn on the main light when she felt a prickling sensation across the back of her neck and her scalp. Almost immediately her heart started to race and her mouth went dry. The fear she'd felt in that same room a few days ago flooding back.

As she stood to leave a coldness washed over her making her shiver and at the same time she heard someone whisper her name, but not just anyone. The voice was so familiar it brought tears to her eyes...'dad?'

Her eyes searched the gloomy room but there was no one there but she suddenly realised she could smell him, that old fashioned brylcreem that he had used in his hair every day until the day he had died mixed with Imperial Leather soap. The coldness was still there but Molly didn't feel so scared anymore. She smiled and called out again...'dad? Dad, are you there?'

Once again she heard her name whispered behind her making her swing around but again there was nothing. She was about to speak again when the bedside lamp suddenly turned back on and heat flooded back over her. Molly had never experienced anything like it and she collapsed into the edge of the bed with her hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. Whilst she had been initially scared, the possibility of her dad having reached out to her from behind just filled her with joy.

Twenty minutes later though, as she sat downstairs eating her breakfast she was contemplating whether she were actually going mad. It had seemed so real at the time but now she was in a lit room with other people milling about it seemed a little ridiculous to think she might have been visited by the ghost of her dad. She had never believed in ghosts until now and maybe there was some rational explanation for what had just happened to her.

Just at that moment Meredith came out from the kitchens and as she walked past Molly's table Molly called to her, 'hi Meredith, have you been having any problems with the electricity this morning?'

Meredith came over with a slightly puzzled look on her face, 'no, not that I've been aware of. Have you been having problems?' She looked upwards to indicate the top floor.

'Well...the light and lamp in my bedroom were both flickering earlier and the lamp stopped working for about thirty seconds, that's all.'

'You mean the big room?'

Molly nodded.

Meredith smiled and sat down on the chair opposite, 'yes, that happens. Did you have a visit?'

'I'm sorry, a what?'

'A visit, you know from the other side. It's not a regular occurrence as such but every so often we have a guest who's maybe a little more sensitive from most and they have a visit, normally a loved one who's past but occasionally it's one of the girls.' She indicated towards the well.

Molly swallowed heavily feeling nervous about how the conversation was playing out. She had wanted reassurance that it was all easily explained but Meredith seemed to be confirming that the exact opposite was true.

'I..err..my dad.' She cleared her throat and spoke a bit louder, 'I thought for a moment that my dad was in the room but that can't be. He...he died about ten years ago.'

Meredith reached out and out her hand over Molly's, 'he must have loved you very much. It's not easy to come through, it takes effort. He'd be wanting you to know how much he loved you.'

'Have you ever seen anyone?'

Meredith sighed and looked down at the table for a minute before lifting her head and smiling, 'my son. He died seven years ago in a motorbike accident. He was only nineteen...too young...far too young. Three times I've seen him.'

Molly suddenly saw her opening, remembering Sherlock's note from earlier, 'I'm so sorry. You must really identify with Melissa's pain at the moment over the loss of her daughter. Losing a child is the worst thing we can ever endure.'

She didn't even try to dissemble, her face hardened and she pulled away from Molly's touch, 'there's no comparison in our situations. Sometimes there's a reason and sometimes there just isn't. Her daughter's not dead...at least not yet,' at Molly's gasp she quickly added, 'they haven't found any body that is. There's more going on here than you realise and you'd be better staying well out of it.'

She moved to stand up and Molly reached out to her once more, 'please Meredith, if you know something...if you know where Lily is, please tell me...please. She must be so scared and alone. She's only seventeen.'

'I don't know nothing and even if I did I doubt I'd tell you. Think you can come here with your posh fella, asking questions, causing trouble. You don't understand anything about this village about the people who live here and you never will.'

With that she pulled away and left Molly to her breakfast, but Molly just pushed the plate away untouched. Had she said the wrong thing, asked the wrong questions? She suddenly felt the weight and responsibility that came with Sherlock's role, the feeling of someone's life or death hanging on your own competence to ask or say the right thing. She didn't envy him his job.

In the end it was just after three in the afternoon when Sherlock came back. Molly had spent most of the time either in the pub itself or in the beer garden, which is where she was when he caught up with her. He soon quizzed her about her conversation with Meredith huffing in disappointment at the way it had gone. Molly found herself skipping over the part about her dad; she just couldn't see Sherlock taking it seriously and didn't feel strong enough about the subject for his ridicule.

His own leads had led nowhere. Hugh was in London working and wasn't due back until the following day and Lord Sladen was with some of his house guests up on the golf course. He even called into the police station which was situated in the local town to enquire about the whereabouts of the police chief but had learnt that whilst he was working he had no available appointment slots until a week on Tuesday.

Sherlock picked at the open packet of crisps lying on the table in front of Molly absent-minded lay eating them. 'The ceremony is unlikely to take place until just before midnight, that's the time when they would believe they would gain the greatest power from the act whether it's rape or actual murder. We have...' He glanced at his watch which showed the time to be four o'clock, 'eight hours to go and no leads.'

He sat back in his chair and ruffled his hands through his hair before opening his eyes and staring at the tree in the centre of the garden. He steepled his hands under his chin, his elbows on the wooden arms of the garden chair and sat in silence thinking.

Molly leant forwards wanting to offer him some support. 'You'll figure it out I know you will. The answers probably right under your nose.'

He ignored her and closed his eyes. Molly didn't take offence, she knew how absorbed he could get in a case and he needed to be, he had to be single-minded and focused. She felt a little guilty in some ways for all the distractions that starting a relationship with her must have given him but she hoped it was worth it...it certainly was to her.

Just then Sherlock exploded out if his chair, 'yes, Molly that's it, you're brilliant.' He leant over the table and kissed her hard on the mouth before disappearing into the pub leaving a stunned Molly in his wake.

 **So we're starting to build towards the climax of the story though still a few chapters to go. Any last thoughts on who's behind all this, and are you a believer in the supernatural or not?**


	18. Chapter 18

**My apologies for the delay in posting this chapter but I managed to pick up a flu virus from all the people coughing and spluttering around me at work. I hope you guys don't catch it because it floored me. Anyway, thank you for your reviews and speculations. On we go.**

 **Chapter 18**

Molly gathered up her things and quickly followed him into the bar where she found him sat at a table watching Meredith serving one of the locals. She sat down next to him and keeping her voice low she asked him what it was that she'd said that was brilliant.

Without looking at her he replied, his hand playing with his mouth covering his words, 'right under my nose...that's what you said and that's where the entrance to the tunnels must be, in the pub cellars right under our feet. It's the only place we haven't checked and it would have made their transportation of us so much easier because we never had to leave the building.'

'I just need to wait for the right moment, when Meredith is away from the bar and distracted and then I can check.'

Molly shook her head causing Sherlock to look at her frowning, 'oh no, not you...we, we're in this together remember. Anyway, when we find Lily she might need a doctor or at the very least a friendly female face and you can provide neither.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes but didn't say anything to contradict her. After a couple of minutes he huffed and stood up making his way to the top floor, gesturing for Molly to follow him.

When they got to his room he started to open up his drawers taking out various bits and pieces and stowing them in his pockets. He glanced at Molly, 'you might want to change into something warmer, we may have to hide out in the tunnels and wait for a while, it could get cold.'

'OK' Molly made for her room but instead of changing in there she gathered her clothes and brought them back into Sherlock's room. He looked at her in confusion, 'not that I mind you changing in my room because believe me I enjoy the view but why aren't you changing in your room?'

Molly unbuttoned her shirt and started to remove it so she could out on a t-shirt and jumper, 'two reasons. Firstly and most importantly, I don't trust you not to leave me behind. Secondly, I don't like that room, it just...I don't know, I just prefer it in here.'

She could tell by the look on Sherlock's face that he didn't quite understand what she was saying but he was too caught up in this new development to quiz her further. He handed her a small, metal cylinder, 'here keep this. It's a miniature breathing apparatus. I had Mycroft send them to me when I realised they were using the drugs in a aerosol form, we may need them later. Only use it when I say though as there's only 30 minutes of breathable air in them.'

He spent a minute showing Molly how to attach it to her nose and activate it. She felt a little ridiculous when it was on but the matter in hand was too serious for jokes.

He glanced at his watch, 'the bar tends to be quiet around six just before people come in for an evening meal, we should be able to get into the cellars then. Are you sure you want to come with me, you could create a distraction for...no, I can see by your expression that that won't happen. OK, well we have an hour to prepare.' He looked at Molly and then did a double-take narrowing his eyes, 'really, now, with everything that's going on?'

Molly smiled and moved forwards placing her hands in his chest, 'mmm yes now, I need a distraction or I'll just start worrying. You up for the job?'

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and returned her smile, 'I'm sure I could be persuaded.'

The hour went quite fast and before Molly knew it they were back downstairs in the pub waiting for an opportunity to get into the cellars and look for an entrance to the tunnels. It soon came when Meredith was called away from the bar to take a delivery of supplies for the kitchens.

Molly followed Sherlock down the old fashioned hatch in the floor of the bar pulling the hatch cover back down behind her. Once down there Sherlock flicked on the light knowing there were no windows to give their location away.

The space was filled with crates and barrels, various tubes snaking over those in use. They soon found a door through to a second storage area with rougher walls and even dimmer lighting. In here was a mish mash of broken furniture and old bar fittings. In the wall at the back, behind an old worn curtain was an ancient looking wooden lintel and a darkened tunnel beyond.

Sherlock indicated to Molly to be quiet before turning on a torch. Molly patted her pocket to triple check she had her own torch; she didn't want to get lost down here without any light. Gradually they made their way into the tunnel. Molly was aware of a slight gradient downwards; it was scary how familiar the rough-hewn walls were, her memories of that hideous night coming back to her in full force.

The lower they went the narrower the tunnel got; Sherlock was already having to duck and even Molly was having to keep an eye on the height so she didn't bang her head. She kept fairly close to Sherlock not wanting to be left alone in this horribly enclosed space.

Just as she was starting to feel as though it were all too much the tunnel suddenly opened up into a wide space. In the centre was the bed that Molly knew she had been tied to. It seemed smaller than she remembered, as did the room. It could only have been about fifteen feet square. There were sconces attached to the walls all the way around to hold candles to light the space.

'Is this where they'll bring Lily?' Molly whispered.

Sherlock shook his head, 'I don't think so. There's no symbology here. I would expect there to be some kind of alter at least. No I think we need to go further.' He flashed the torch around showing two more tunnels one to the north of the village and another further west. He examined the floors of both tunnels spending a couple of minutes examining the walls of each for the first couple of metres. Finally he indicates the northern tunnel, 'this one, come on'.

This tunnel was similar to the first except for being a little wider and interspersed every so often with wooden support structures where the rock changed to earth. Twice they reach a fork in the tunnel and each time Sherlock went through the same routine of checking the floor and the walls looking for signs to point them in the right direction. They were also being constantly vigilant for any sounds.

Eventually they started to see the glow of lights in the distance. Sherlock flicked off the torch and they slowly edged their way forward in the near pitch black. Molly had to hold onto the back of Sherlock's coat to help guide her as well as offering her a touchstone of security. Her heart felt like it was in her throat and her ears were filled with a buzzing noise signalling the claustrophobia which had been ever present since they had first entered this network.

As they got to the end of the tunnel the light became brighter but was flickering, casting shadows back and forth across their faces and the ever smoother walls of the tunnel. The space before them was much larger than the previous one that her and Sherlock had been held in. It looked more like the basement of a house.

'Do you know where we are?' Molly whispered.

Sherlock glanced back at her and nodded, 'underneath Lord Sladen's home I assume. I knew he was involved but never suspected it was this much...I always miss something.'

Molly peeked out from behind Sherlock; the room was large and obviously the centre of the occult activities here in the village. On each wall that she could see was the engraving of some kind of symbol. Molly recognised the Brimstone Sigel that Sherlock had also found in the church, an inverted pentacle and above the obvious altar was an inverted cross ornately carved out of wood with cabalist symbols carved down the centre of it.

The altar itself looked like something out of a Hammer House of Horror film. It was covered in a dark red velvet cloth with a dozen black candles in ornate, gold candlestick holders. In the centre was a human skull, quite an old one from the discolouration on it and either side were two silver chalices. On the front of the cloth, hanging down in front of the altar was the head of some kind of animal embroidered in a gold thread.

'The Goat of Mendes,' Molly heard Sherlock say to himself. When he saw her glance over to him he elaborated, 'it's a symbol that originated in Egypt but has since been claimed by the Church of Satan to represent Baphomet, a demon.'

The centre of the room was dominated by a stone table covered in dried blood with channels dug into the edges to funnel the blood down into an old iron grate in the floor. The table sat in the centre of a huge pentacle drawn on the ground.

The worst thing for Molly however was the overwhelming sense of evil that permeated out of the room. She could feel bile in the back of her throat and knew she was starting to hyperventilate. All she could think about was those faceless chanting figures surrounding her and Sherlock mixed in with the body of Karl laid out on the floor with his intestines spread in a bloody heap over the grass and the look of abject horror on the vicar's dead face. She felt as though she were drowning, her chest was heavy and she couldn't seem to get a decent breath in her lungs. Spots started to swim in her vision and she knew she was about to pass out.

A moment later Sherlock's face swam into view. She could see the concern in his eyes and his mouth, that beautiful mouth moving, but she couldn't make out the words. His hands felt cold on her face, bringing her back to herself a little and she started to make out what he was saying, 'stay with me Molly. Try to slow your breathing, in and out like I am.' He lifted her hand to his chest and exaggerated the movement he made as he took a breath and let it out.

She mirrored him and gradually felt the fog lifting, the weight in her chest receding. As she started to feel better her embarrassment at letting him down started to rise up. She knew her cheeks were blazing even as she started to apologise, 'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to let you down. It's this place, I can't describe it, it just feels evil.'

Sherlock cocked his head, 'it's just a room Molly, places themselves can't be evil only the people who inhabit them.'

She shook her head, 'no...no...you're wrong. I can feel it. It's still there, something very bad has happened here, maybe many things.'

'Are you alright now? I need to take a look around.'

Molly nodded, 'yes I'm fine. You go.' She sat herself down at the edge of the tunnel and watched as Sherlock made his way around the room. There was an old, wooden door set into one of the walls and she saw him turn the handle before crouching down at the lock. After a couple of minutes he tried the handle again but it still wouldn't open, Molly assumed it must be bolted on the other side.

He came back over and crouched down opposite Molly, 'Lily must be being held on the others side of the door but there's no way through from this side. It's too thick to break down and there are separate bolts as well as the lock. We'll just have to wait until they arrive. We'll have to go back to the last fork in the tunnel and hide until everyone using the tunnel from the pub has passed through, at least it's not too far back. Come on.' He stood and held his hand out to Molly pulling her up so they could set off back.

 **Not long to go now, the stage is set and the actors will soon be taking their places upon it. I'll aim to post the next chapter on Sunday, illness permitting.**


	19. Chapter 19

**So, I'm still feeling a bit ropey. It seems this cold has knocked me for six and thrown out all my writing plans for the weekend :(. Fear not however, this chapter is all ready for you. The waiting will soon be over.**

 **Chapter 19**

They settled themselves as comfortably as they could in the dark and Molly hugged herself into Sherlock's side. She was still a little embarrassed about her meltdown earlier and didn't want to let her claustrophobia get the better of her. Comfortingly, as she leant against him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

'Do you think Lestrade and John will get here in time? If not, do we have a plan?'

She could feel him shrug before he answered, 'I texted them our location before we came down here but I have no phone signal now. As for a plan...I'm sure something will occur to me as we go along...it normally does.'

They chatted for a little while longer but Molly surprised herself by falling asleep. Sherlock made her feel safe and secure in a way none of her other partners had ever done. Curiously the only other who had given her this feeling had been her short lived dalliance with Moriarty.

She came to when Sherlock placed his hand across her mouth and shook her gently, 'shhhh.'

She nodded to show she understood and his hand left her face. She could hear footsteps and voices getting closer, flickering candle light creeping into the entrance of the tunnel they were hiding in before passing on by. Molly counted about six people. A couple of minutes later another two went past; their capes rustling as they walked.

Sherlock waited until he was sure everyone that was using that passageway already had and then he took Molly's hand leading them slowly, in the dark, back towards the room. As they got close they hunkered down so as to not draw attention to themselves.

Already there was a low hum of chanting from those gathered in a circle on the outer edges of the pentacle. There was a strange smell of incense in the air and Sherlock indicated to Molly that she should put on her breathing apparatus as he put his own on. She fumbled with it a little trying to remember how Sherlock had told her to attach it and activate it but she soon felt the clean air entering her lungs.

Above the chanting were the cries of a young girl and Molly's heart went out to her. She started to rise, instinct making her want to go to her but Sherlock took hold of her wrist pulling her back down and shaking his head. They needed to bide their time. Molly knew Sherlock was hoping for back up before they had to act but she was scared it wasn't going to come. Their only defence would be Sherlock's wits and the gun she'd seen him slip into the inside pocket of his suit jacket before they'd left his bedroom.

Molly looked into the room past the cloaks of the two people stood just in front of the tunnel entrance. She recognised Lily from her photo but only just. She was thinner than the photo and her hair was limp and unwashed. She was lying roped to the stone table wearing nothing but a thin satin nightdress which barely covered her modesty. She was pulling on the restraints at her wrist and pitifully begging the people gathered around her for help.

Gradually the chanting grew louder and louder and there was a rumbling noise in the background building the atmosphere. Someone was using a sound system to accentuate the noise in the room to great effect. Just as the chanting reached a crescendo they all stopped and there was utter silence.

A deep synthetic voice came from off to the right where Molly knew the altar was but she couldn't see the originator, 'Welcome. Tonight my friends, we celebrate Walpurgis...and what a celebration we have planned. For too long we have been dormant, for too long we have been complaisant but no longer. Tonight we put Almsbury on the maps once more. From this night forth our village will be the pinnacle, the centre of chaos and darkness. Tonight we raise our master...we raise he to whom we owe everything, our very existence. Tonight we will come face to face with the Demon of the Abyss...and we will make him our slave...Choronzon will be at our beck and call and we will become triumphant.'

The people around Lily started to sing, raising up their arms, swaying from side to side. Molly could see those same familiar masks that she'd seen surrounding her and Sherlock and it made her feel sick with anger that they were terrorising this poor girl and for what...a stupid myth. The only thing they'd be raising tonight would be their insanity levels.

Whoever was leading the group started to walk around the stone table and as he came past still spouting his propaganda mixed with Latin phrases and other languages Molly saw a slim, male body encased in black leather trousers, naked from the waist up and wearing a large black mask similar to the goat embossed on the altar cloth. The horns rose up from his head: twisted and dripping blood. But by far the most bizarre item he wore though was a huge black dildo strapped to his groin, jutting out in front of him.

Molly saw his hand trail down Lily's body as he walked past her. She saw the girl try to pull away, twisting her body to one side. Where he had touched her he left streaks of blood; it looked as though something had already been sacrificed that night.

As he got to the bottom of the table and looked up at the prone body of his young victim Molly saw Sherlock remove the gun from his pocket. It looked as if they had run out of time, they were going to have to do this themselves.

Sherlock shifted so he was closer to Molly, 'I'm not going to be able to hold them off for long. Concentrate on freeing Lily and when you do just leave, don't wait for me. Get hold of Lestrade or John as soon as you can.'

Molly's heart felt as though it were going to beat out of her chest. She watched as the self-proclaimed leader stood on the table between Lily's leg, he was lewdly stroking the dildo and thrusting his hips. Every move he made seemed to cause a reaction in the surrounding group who started to moan, Molly could even see some of them touching themselves, flashes of naked bodies beneath the cloaks they wore. The whole scene just made her feel sick.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was waiting for the last possible moment before he made a move. He knew absolutely that he wouldn't be able to control this group for long but he hoped it would be long enough for Molly to get the girl to safety.

He kept his eyes on the leader. He knew who he was now and berated himself for not seeing it earlier. He always missed something. The man was obviously a psychopath and very good at manipulating his own personality to perfection. He could have given Moriarty a run for his money on that score.

At the point when he threw off the dildo and started to unbutton his trousers Sherlock knew he'd run out of time. He stood and as he entered the hall he fired his gun into the ceiling. Within a couple of seconds Molly skirted round him and started to tug at the knots at Lily's wrist. A swell of pride at her actions caught him a little by surprise. He knew she was scared but here she was doing exactly what he'd asked her to do.

At the sound of the gun all the chanting ceased and he felt every eye turn to him. Those nearest too him had fallen back away from him. He aimed his gun very clearly at the man on the stone table. The black mask was turned in his direction and an unholy laugh came from the sound system attached to it.

'Mister Holmes, I was so hoping you would drop in on our festivities. What took you so long?'

'Well, I was curious to see just how pathetic your ceremony was but I realise it's not worth watching. I've seen much better in far less grand surroundings. Really...it's a disappointment.'

The man lithely jumped down and walked slowly towards Sherlock who just as slowly backed away from him, keeping the gun pointed at his chest.

'I don't think you realise what a precarious position you and your slut have put yourself in. Do you think a gun can stop us? We're ready to face the fires of hell, to glory in death and destruction...' As he spoke he flicked his right hand towards Sherlock. Immediately one of the cloaked figures ran towards the detective forcing him to turn and fire the gun.

Even as the acolyte fell clutching his shoulder another came at Sherlock from the left and he knew the game was up. He fired again but his concentration was on Molly and how she was doing but it was no good; she and Lily weren't free and his worst nightmare was coming true. He hadn't protected her he had just put her in harm's way.

He dropped the gun as he felt multiple hands roughly taking hold of his arms pinning them painfully behind his back. He could see Molly had also been stopped and another of this sick cult was retying Lily's restraints. She was howling and pulling against them but Sherlock just wished she would shut up so he could think. He needed to delay things as long as possible and hope that John and Greg would find them.

Molly was brought over to stand next to Sherlock and he felt sickened at how white she looked. She was visibly shaking with fear. He should have sent her back along the tunnels to safety not dragged her into this mess with him.

'It looks as though your little rescue mission has ended in disaster, Mister Holmes. What ever should we do with you both now?' He circled round the two of them. Molly hugged closer to Sherlock to get away from him but it just caused him to concentrate on her further.

'Little Mousy Molly, trailing hopefully after her repressed detective. You should be grateful to us. If we hadn't intervened and given him a taste of you do you think he would ever have noticed you...or wanted you? You did look so delightful that night...such creamy, unmarked flesh. Oh the images I could carve into you. Or maybe I should taste you myself, see how I like it. Fuck you before I fuck Lily. Mmm that could be fun. There'll still be plenty of you left over for my followers to enjoy. Have you been had by ten or more in one night before?'

Molly let out a choked sob and Sherlock stepped forward, he had his head cocked to one side, 'but that sounds so unlike you Adrian. I would have thought I'm more your type. Don't think I didn't see your eyes undressing me every time you saw me in the bar. If you want to rape anyone wouldn't you rather it were me. You could even let me loose...I'd give you a real run for your money.'

Sherlock heard Molly's sharp intake of breath as he revealed who the coven leader was. He'd known that Adrian was involved in the evil goings on here but he had not realised he was their leader until he'd seen him.

Adrian walked up to him, still masked, swaggering slightly. 'Oh you are good but not as good as I'd hoped. I fooled you didn't I with the 'only gay in the village' routine. I bet you even believed Meredith owned the pub. Not true...it's mine as are half the properties in this God forsaken little place...and it really is God forsaken. We have worshipped Baphomet and Choronzon for hundreds of years and my family have led them all. And our Gods have been good to us, given us money, land and worshippers. But I realised that maybe it's time to think bigger, to rule more.'

'Tonight...tonight will give me the power to take all of this,' he spun in a circle, 'to London. There are so many lost and lonely people there, and so many pleasures. I could show them what they could have and all they have to do is give up their souls, nothing much. People sell their souls on eBay nowadays for a few pounds and yet I can offer them so much more.'

He moved to the alter and picked up an ornate but wickedly sharp dagger. 'You know...I think you're right Mister Holmes, I would enjoy you more. Now on your knees.'

 **And I think I'll just leave you all there; hanging onto that cliff...don't let go now. But be warned there** **are trigger warnings for the next chapter. If any if you would like more detailed information please feel free to PM me and I can tell you more about it.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry for the cliff-hanger but the wait is at an end. Light trigger warnings for this chapter if you need more clarity before reading please PM me. As ever thank you for reading, we're coming towards the close of the story so I appreciate you all staying with me for so long.**

 **And to those who celebrate (or at least enjoy the bank holidays and chocolate eggs) Happy Easter!**

 **Chapter 20**

Molly was desperately trying to hold back her tears as she watched Sherlock struggle as he was unceremoniously pushed to his knees. He looked up defiantly as Adrian removed his mask and made his way back over starting, once more, to unbutton his trousers.

'I really hope you're not expecting me to give you a blow job. That would be most unwise.' Sherlock licked across his teeth and then snapped them shut.

At that Adrian punched him, snapping his head sharply to one side. When he turned his head back Molly could see a trickle of blood from his lip which he licked as he cautiously moved his jaw checking for damage.

Adrian bent down in front of the uncowed detective and used the tip of his sharp knife to lift his chin up. 'Oh you are going to be fun.' He bent forward, holding the back of Sherlock's head and kissed him. Molly could see he had forced Sherlock's mouth open. She wanted to look away, knew she ought too for Sherlock's sake, but she couldn't.

When Adrian pulled away Molly could see an angry blush on Sherlock's face. As Adrian stood Sherlock was yanked back up into his feet. He seemed to sense her gaze and he turned to her and whispered, 'don't look Molly...please,' before he focused his attention back on the madman in front of him.

Adrian ran the blade down Sherlock's chest then he brought the tip back to the top button and sliced through the cotton holding it in place. He repeated the move with each button until Sherlock's chest was exposed. Once again he slid the knife down Sherlock's torso but this time it left a thin trail of blood, nothing serious but it made Molly wince to see it.

'Strip him!' Adrian barked at those holding him and Sherlock started once again to struggle determined to not go easily to his fate, still hoping for some miracle to save them.

It took four of them to subdue him enough to remove his coat and jacket and the remains of his shirt. As one of them reached for the clasp on his trousers he roared and bucked using the people holding his arms to allow him to lift his legs and kick the chest of the man in front.

The acolyte went flying and as he hit the stone table behind him his mask fell off to reveal Hugh, Lily's step-father. He was winded but he quickly righted himself and when he came back to Sherlock he punched him hard in the stomach. It was only those holding him up that stopped Sherlock from doubling over.

This time when Hugh reached for him he used his hand to rub against Sherlock's groin as he laughed in his face. 'You know what. After he's finished with you, you're mine. I'm gonna fuck you til you bleed.'

Sherlock just spat in his face and refused to flinch as Hugh raised his fist once more. Before the blow could land however there was a strange, eerie grating noise which rumbled and seemed to build until it filled the whole room. At the same time the ground beneath their feet moved, rocking ominously from side to side. The noise was overwhelming and Molly felt the hands holding her let her go as everyone tried to either cover their ears or find something to hold onto.

Within seconds most of the candles seemed to go out leaving the room in semi-darkness and chaos. As Molly covered her own ears she felt Sherlock lift her from the floor, 'come on Molly. We have to go NOW.'

She pushed herself to her feet and they staggered together towards Lily's table; still determined to release the girl if they could. This time Sherlock seemed to have acquired the dagger and he soon sliced through the ties before pulling her off the slab.

Molly felt confused and disorientated. She knew the hallucinogen was probably in her system now since they had lost their breathing apparatus a long time ago but in the darkness she could have sworn that she saw black smoke rising from the cracked floor of the demonic temple and forming into a huge, terrifying shape. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched it sway back and forth still growing in size. She had never felt such a feeling of dread and terror; it made bile and vomit rise in her throat.

She wasn't the only one to sense this new presence and she could hear pleas and screams from around the room rising up over the hideous screeching noise and the darkness.

As Sherlock slung Lily over his shoulder Molly saw Adrian pull Hugh in front of him just as the smoke seemed to throw a punch at him. Hugh screamed as the smoke entered his chest but before Molly could see any more she was blinded by torchlight coming out of the tunnel and shining into her eyes. Within seconds that strange feeling left her, leaving her feeling weak and empty.

There was more shouting and a couple of gun shots fired into the ceiling before she heard Lestrade's voice shouting 'Police, stay where you are or we will shoot.'

She sagged to her knees with relief and even as she started to pass out she could feel arms round her shoulders and John's familiar voice asking her if she was alright.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

To Molly the next few hours passed in a blur. After initially almost fainting she had ended up sat against a wall in the main hall sipping on a bottle of water that John had got for her and watching all the activity unfolding. As soon as the others had arrived the sickening noise and swaying in the room had stopped almost as though a switch had been thrown.

'John, what was that? The noise, it was so loud, it felt as though the room was being torn apart.' But John had just looked at her in confusion. 'What noise? You mean all the screaming? I didn't hear anything else. You're probably confused, Sherlock mentioned the airborne hallucinogen. It's been turned off and you'll be feeling better shortly, we've opened all the doors to let more air in.'

Molly wanted to shake her head and disagree with him, it had definitely been more than that but he'd been called away by Sherlock needing some help.

Thankfully, Greg and John hadn't just turned up by themselves Greg had manage to rope in some officers from the neighbouring town. He was a little worried about how much trouble he would get in for doing it but Sherlock just waved off his concerns on the basis that the ends would justify the means.

In the mayhem, at least half of the coven had fled through the door up into Lord Sladen's house and from there they had no doubt made their way back to their homes. Sherlock was confident that with time and interrogations they would all be rounded up eventually. Adrian had been placed under arrest for the abduction of Lily Shepherd and the murders of Rev Tucker and Karl and was last seen swearing and cursing those around him as he was led away in handcuffs.

An ambulance had been called for Lily although John was sure she had no major injuries. She was a little dehydrated and malnourished as well as in shock but at least she was still alive and untouched. Unlike her step-father Hugh Bennett who was lying dead of a heart attack. Molly had declined to go over and check the body, John was more than capable of confirming the death and she just didn't think she had anything left in her.

As things started to die down Sherlock came over with John trailing at his heels. He hunched down in front of her and smiled. Someone had got him an old police shirt to wear in lieu of his wrecked shirt but it was way too big and hung off him. In better circumstances Molly would have laughed but all she could remember was how scared she had felt and how much she had appreciated him stepping in to take the attention off her. The thought of what he had nearly had to suffer brought tears to her eyes and she could feel them spilling over and leaking down her face. She wished she could be stronger and braver but she wasn't.

She said as much to him and he brought his hand up to her face as he shook his head, 'Molly, you were amazing. You did exactly what I asked, without question, even though you were terrified. It's my fault, I shouldn't have let us get into that situation in the first place.'

His words galvanised her into action. She was suddenly afraid he was going to revisit their previous argument and use this as an excuse to leave. She moved forwards and wrapped her arms around his neck seeing John's shocked expression out of the corner of her eye. 'It wasn't your fault. It's fine, I'm fine. Don't leave...just don't leave.'

He wrapped his own arms round her in turn, 'it's alright. I'm not planning on going anywhere. Well other than back to London with you.' He pulled her away just enough for him to be able to kiss her whilst at the same time wiping her tears away with his thumbs. Molly distantly heard John muttering a 'what the hell, Sherlock' but she didn't care. All that mattered was that they were together and they were safe.

A few moments later they pulled apart and Sherlock helped Molly to her feet. Her legs felt shaky and as she started to walk she stumbled a little. That was enough for Sherlock to swing his arm behind her shoulders and knees and carry her up the stairs, into the Manor House and out to the waiting car. All Molly wanted to do was curl up and sleep in his arms.

She didn't remember too much of the journey back. As soon as they had got started her eyes had begun to close and she had soon slept only waking briefly when they got back to Baker St. She had murmured her disquiet about leaving her belongings behind but Sherlock assured her they would be packed up and sent on. By the time they had arrived at 221B they had lost John. Molly assumed they must have dropped him off at his house before they got there.

She had vague memories of him quizzing Sherlock, in the car, about their relationship as she had been falling asleep.

'So what... you and Molly are together now?'

'It would appear so John, even you can see that.'

'And what about when you're back in London or is this just a holiday fling? You had better not hurt Molly or I'll...'

'You'll what John? You're not going to kill me and you've already punched me on more than one occasion. Anyway, I have no intention of hurting Molly. I find myself content to be with her. She's...I...' He must have shown some sign because Molly heard John's intake of breath.

'Oh my God, you love her. You actually love her.'

There was silence for a moment and Molly fought the tug of sleep at the edges of her brain, wanting to hear more.

'Yes, well I think we've said all we need to say on the matter John...moving on...'

She didn't recall anything else about the trip.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The next morning she woke up in an unfamiliar bed but one which she knew instinctively was Sherlock's.

She rolled over to find him already dressed and awake and lying propped up against the pillows with his hands steepled under his chin. He spoke without opening his eyes, 'ah, finally awake. I didn't know it was possible for someone to sleep so long.'

Molly glanced round the room and saw the light shining round the edges of the curtains, 'mmm what time is it?' She made to sit up but realised she was naked and found herself pulling the sheet up to cover herself. It felt a bit odd now they were back in London, almost as though they were strangers again.

'It's quarter to twelve and why exactly are you covering yourself up Molly. It's not like I haven't seen you naked. You're not getting shy around me are you?'

'I...no...yes..maybe, just a little. It's just being here, in Baker Street, it feels different somehow.'

This time when she looked up at him he was staring right back at her, 'I think we just need to make it more familiar then don't we? It makes sense given that this is your home now.' He started to lean forwards to kiss her until Molly put her fingers against his mouth stopping him.

'Wait...what? Don't you think that that's a decision for us both to take...and anyway it's far too soon to be considering moving in together.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes and huffed as he sat back against the pillows, 'don't be boring Molly. I think we've known each other long enough to bypass the traditional dating and given that you being with me makes you more at risk you need to be where I can best ensure your security.'

Molly just scowled at him, 'fair enough but none of those are reason enough for me to leave my flat and move here.'

Sherlock scowled right back at her, 'Molly you are being unreasonable. There's no point in paying out two lots of rent, your flat is too small and mine is better located...what more reasons do you want?'

Molly just lifted one eyebrow.

Sherlock bit his lip and grimaced, 'really...sentiment...that's what you need.' He was silent for a few seconds contemplating what he wanted to say.

'Fine, fine. Molly, I find your company stimulating and arousing, I have enjoyed waking up with you and going to bed with you at night. I find the sex to be something I want us to continue sharing and there are so many positions and situations that I would like for us to explore and we could do that so much more often and easier if you were living here...But more than that Molly, I have feelings for you; I never thought I would say this to another human being but... I love you. You complete me in a way that I didn't think was possible. So, Molly Hooper, will you please move in with me?'

Molly couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face as she listened to his speech. 'Now that was much more like it. And yes, I will move in with you.'

He smiled back and leant forward, 'so now can I kiss you?'

'Oh, Mister Holmes, you can do more than kiss me, come here...'

 **Just one more chapter to go and then we're done. What say we go out with a bit of a smutty bang? Let me know and please, please let me know what you thought of this chapter.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Another final chapter, it has been such a ride sharing this story with you and I'm so happy it has been so well received. Thank you all for all your support and reviews and favourites. It makes the hard work of writing and developing the plot all worthwhile.**

 **Chapter 21**

This time as he moved towards her Molly had no intention of stopping him instead she pulled him closer until he was more or less lying on top of her.

The kiss which started off slow increased in intensity made more so by Molly remembering how close they had both come the previous day to serious harm or even death. She felt a need to feel alive, to feel him joined with her and enjoying the pleasures they could each bring to the other.

She also had to admit to herself that the fact that he was fully dressed and she was naked was seriously hot. She stroked her hands down his shirt covered back before pulling the material out of his trousers relishing how warm the skin of his back felt to her touch. Her body arched towards his as his hand caressed her breast before sliding down to her stomach and then over her pubic hair.

He let his hand rest there until Molly was squirming under him and pressing herself into his grasp. She didn't relax until she felt two fingers slide into her and his thumb start to circle her clit. She moaned into his mouth, her tongue dancing with his as he plunged it into her mouth. His fingers were soon slipping and sliding within her moving faster as he sensed she was close to her climax. At the last moment she pulled her mouth away so she could call out his name, swearing and telling him how good it felt. She could feel his mouth on her neck sucking and biting as he helped her ride it out.

As she came back down from her initial orgasm she knew she would soon be ready for more. She wanted and needed to feel him inside her and to that end she pushed on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back and then she quickly moved to straddle him. He looked up at her with eyes that were almost black, the pupils blown wide with desire.

She rocked a little enjoying the feel of his hardness, still encased in his trousers, on her naked over-sensitised centre. Slowly, as he watched her she undid each button until she could push the shirt open. When she saw the thin scar running down his chest from Adrian's knife she bent to kiss it. Then she moved her mouth to his nipple as her nails scraped up his sides; enjoying the way he groaned and bucked underneath her. She loved how responsive he was and how vocal he was in his pleasure, feeling his hands tangling in her hair as he held her too him.

She kissed her way back up his chest and neck using her tongue to lick slowly up his throat feeling his hands moving to massaging her sensitive breasts. Then they were kissing again and Molly had to admit that she loved nothing better than kissing him. He was extraordinarily good at it which was a surprise given how long he had been celibate.

It wasn't long before she was reaching for the fastenings on his trousers desperate to release him and feel him inside her. As she reached for him she stroked him, pumping his erection until he groaned and helped her to sit up enough to guide him inside. As he thrust into her they both seemed to still and exhale as though they had been waiting for this moment all their lives. He filled her so beautifully that Molly could already feel the beginnings of another orgasm. As she started to move he brought his head to her breast and she held him in place as she rocked against him feeling his body stimulating her inside and out.

It was such a delicious and overwhelming feeling that Molly knew she was keening and calling his name but had no control over her reactions enough to stop. She felt his hand slide down her body and as his hand slid over her ass she came and came hard. It seemed to last far longer than any climax she'd had previously. It was almost as though one orgasm was leading seamlessly into another; her whole body felt hyper-stimulated and as she bent to kiss him, biting at his lower lip and sliding her tongue into his mouth she felt his own orgasm hit.

He let out a large groan and almost lifted her off the bed with his thrusts; holding her hips down and onto him to give him as much depth as possible.

Then all was silent. Molly fell against him, kissing his neck and feeling his hands still holding her close to him. 'Mmmmm' seemed to be all they could manage until Molly lifted her head and kissed him one final time. 'That, Mister Holmes, was amazing. You just keep getting better and better.'

She slid off the bed and made her way through to the bathroom but couldn't resist a final look at his half-dressed, dishevelled state. 'Shower?' was all it took to having him smiling and sitting up before following her through.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

A few hours later Molly was returning to Baker St. complete with a suitcase full of some of her basic belongings and a cat carrier. She had gone to pack and collect Toby whilst Sherlock had gone to help Lestrade. Most of the others arrested had been kept locally but Greg had insisted on Adrian being brought back to Scotland Yard so he could personally carry out the investigation. The Independent Police Complaints were involved and the local Almsbury police were being investigated for possible corruption. Sherlock had agreed to give a statement so long as he could sit in on Adrian's interview.

Molly had offered to stay at her own flat and move in over the next week or so but Sherlock had not been happy with that and so here she was already unpacking some of her things whilst Toby was inspecting the sights and smells of his new home. At least it was a larger space for him to roam around in. Mrs Hudson was fussing around helping Molly to make some space for her belongings.

'It's going to be so nice having another woman in the place. You've no idea the mess and dirt there was when it was John and Sherlock living here together. I have to admit I was surprised though when Sherlock said you'd be moving in. I was convinced he and John would get back together. But,' she patted a bemused Molly's arm, 'I think you'll be good for him. You've always had a way of keeping him in check, I still remember that apology he gave you that Christmas...you could have knocked me down with a feather I was that surprised.'

She only left when Sherlock bounded back into the flat having taken the stairs two at a time. 'Well, I'll leave the two of you alone. I'll be going out this evening so you'll have the house to yourselves, no need to keep the noise down.' Molly blushed at the wink the old woman gave her even as Sherlock completely ignored her.

He threw his coat and jacket onto the hooks on the wall and moved to give Molly a kiss before throwing some files down onto the table.

'The interviews were fairly straight-forward. He's being charged with the deaths of Karl and the priest. The only unknown is how Hugh died. The autopsy says it's as though the man's heart was crushed inside his chest. I've brought the file for you to review. The police pathologist is an imbecile though.'

Molly remembered once more her terror and the sight of that strange smoke. She hadn't actually had a chance to discuss the event with Sherlock and she found she was a little nervous about mentioning it. It seemed like a kind of madness in the cold light of day now she was back in London.

'Sherlock...what do you think happened that night? The noise, the room moving?'

He glanced up at her with a frown as he sat himself in his chair with one of the files, 'it was obviously some kind of earthquake Molly. Rare but not unheard of in the UK. Whilst I don't normally believe in coincidence on this occasion I think that's what it was; a fortunate coincidence.'

'And the smoke?'

'What smoke?'

Molly swallowed heavily feeling an echo of the dread she had felt that night, 'the smoke that came up from the ground, it seemed to...erm...form into a..a..'

Sherlock stood back up and came over looking at her with concern, 'Molly, there was no smoke. You were running on adrenalin, the drugs in your system just made you think you saw that. Maybe we need to get you checked out to make sure...'

Molly forced a smile onto her face, 'no, no I'm fine. You're probably right. I was very scared. Now let's have a look at that file.' But as she sat down she wondered if there hadn't been more going on that night than Sherlock would ever comprehend. Something had been called and something had risen. It had taken a sacrificial victim and left. Molly had never believed in the supernatural before and she wasn't fully sure she did now but she couldn't deny what she had seen or how she had felt. She also knew she would never convince Sherlock and almost didn't want to. That village was behind her now and she would be more than happy to never return there.

The full grisly details of the underbelly of the village came to light during the trials a few months later. Adrian had fooled Molly and even Sherlock completely. His story of being a poverty struck barman was shown to be a smokescreen. He didn't just own the bar but many of the houses and businesses locally. He had built a fearsome reputation for violence and had used his theatrical background to full advantage to have most of the villagers believing they were indebted to demonic forces for all that happened to them. They paid and paid heavily for protection and good fortune and it had made Adrian rich.

Molly sat in on some of the trial listening to Sherlock giving evidence; wincing as he came close to being held in contempt for insulting the judge. She couldn't help but believe that Adrian himself had believed in the occult religion he had instilled in the village. He truly seemed to think that sacrificing a virgin and raising the demon would give him enough power to expand his cult beyond the confines of the village. She was just glad when he was sentenced and they could put the whole sorry business behind them.

The only thing she wasn't sorry for was that it had brought her and Sherlock together. John and Mary had quickly accepted the relationship and even Mycroft had wryly accepted her into the family with a nod and a kiss on her cheek, 'mother will be pleased, she's very keen for grandchildren.' Molly had laughed in shock and amusement at Sherlock's clenched jaw, but she'd been even more shocked when later that night he'd admitted he would be open to the idea of children with her.

The funniest reaction had been one day in the morgue soon after they had got back when Sherlock had arrived with Lestrade and Donovan to discuss a body that had recently come in. As he had kissed Molly by way of a greeting Molly heard a phone smash. The both looked round to see Lestrade's dumbfounded expression, eyes and mouth wide open and Donovan swearing as she picked up the pieces of her broken iPhone. 'Fucking hell Molly, the freak...seriously you're seeing the freak. You must be as mad as he is.'

'Yes, thank you Donovan for your unasked for opinion. I'm not sure the woman who had an affair with Anderson has any right to mock us.'

The best part, however, was coming home to Baker St after a hard day at work. The flat was always warm and welcoming and if Sherlock wasn't on a case he would greet her with a kiss that never failed to have her melting into his embrace. She never tired of being with him. Her stomach still flipped at the sight of him, her heart still stuttered when his lips met hers and she would always love the sound of her name falling from his lips as he climaxed.

So when, six months later, he proposed after solving a particularly grisly triple murder that she'd helped him with there was no question that she would say yes. They married in the church near to his parents cottage with a handful of friends and family there to bear witness and as they left the church Molly's only regret was the absence of her father. Her mind going back to that strange village once more and her impression of having felt his presence so clearly. She found herself remembering the quote that Sherlock had recited during the case _there are more things in heaven and earth Horatio than are dreamt of in your philosophy._ How completely right he was!

 **Aaand there we have it. Please let me have your final thoughts because I'm greedy like that. Your feedback keeps me writing and I'm working on another similar fic at the moment.**

 **In the meantime though I think we need some simple fluff so my next story will start in about a week and will be a tad less plot driven and complicated but no less Sherlolly. Until then, take care and stay chilled.**


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